With These Words, Sincerely Yours
by LyricallyObsessed33
Summary: With these words I promise to show you the passion behind our touches, the desire behind our kisses, and the intensity behind our love. Sincerely yours, Brittany S. Pierce.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One – She Likes Ducks and I Like Her**

"You're my best friend," she whispered, molding her face into the crook of Brittany's neck. The contact and familiarity of past intimacies seeps from pale to tanned skin, forcing Santana to take an unsteady breath.

"Yeah, me too," Brittany replied, barely above a whisper, as her hands grasped to pull her _best friend_ closer. Everything was said, but at the same time nothing was conversed.

A moment of silence and peace wafted over them. Santana wished they could always be like this. Just the two of them. She felt secure and loved within Brittany's arms, like nothing else mattered. It was intoxicating, the way Brittany had to slightly crouch down because she was a few inches taller, the way her blonde ponytail brushed against Santana's cheek, the way Brittany's fingers traced light circles on the small of her back. She was Santana's personal drug, and the thought alone caused her to fear the unknown, the uncertainty of who they truly were to one another. Santana hastily pulled away, immediately regretting the loss of contact and heat.

A smile spread across Santana's face, a hope, like a glimmer of maybe, as she held up her pinkie to Brittany. The exuberant blonde smiled and laced her pinkie with Santana's. Their fingers locked between them as they turned to walk down the hallway.

"When did you get so smart?"

Brittany blushed, not necessarily because of the words spoken, but because of the meaning behind them.

* * *

><p>"San, I'm bored." Brittany hummed as she turned to lie on her back. Her muscles flexed as she adjusted her position, forcing a drop of sweat to roll into her belly button. The sun reflected off the moisture around her ribs as they expanded with each breath.<p>

Santana heard Brittany's complaint but continued to lie on her stomach as she flippantly looked over the new issue of Cosmo. "What am I suppose to do about that?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm but hopeful. Although tanning was what one ought to do during summer vacation, it wasn't something that kept her interest for very long.

"I don't know. Entertain me," Brittany whined with a slight giggle.

Santana gulped back the flood of ideas that popped into her head. Oh the things she wanted to do to Brittany that could definitely be qualified as entertainment. But an air of awkwardness had settled upon them since school ended. They were friends, _best friends_. But both wanted more.

"And how would you like me to do that?"

"Sing to me. I always like when you sing."

Santana chanced a glance at the earnest angel lying next to her. The sun's rays were casting an almost glow around her, lighting her pale skin on fire. She looked like a porcelain doll, flawless from top to bottom. Santana pinched her thighs together in a moment of weakness as thoughts of running her own tongue across perfection crept into her mind.

"I don't really feel like singing Britt." Staring too long at those never ending legs was never good for one's sanity. Santana's attention refocused back on the article she wasn't really reading.

Santana wanted her, and not just sexually. She wanted her physically, emotionally, mentally. She wanted Brittany in every way possible. But you can't always get what you want, isn't that how life works?

She was ripped from her thoughts as a shrill voice tore through the backyard. The high-pitched tone emitted from the deck, causing a slight tremble to force its way through Santana's body. "Santana Maria Lopez!"

Santana rolled her eyes before sitting up, folding her legs underneath her so she could see the woman from where they were by the pool. "Yes?" Santana immediately noticed the stupid sun hat Mrs. Raezer down the street had let her mom borrow. Her mom was convinced these hats were fashionable, but all Santana wanted to do was burn the damn thing and use the flames to light a cigar.

"How many times have I told you not to leave the front door unlocked if you and Brittany were gonna be outside. Do I need to remind you where we live mija?" The edges of the hat flapped with her mother's movements, mocking Santana in a way that made her skin crawl.

"We just got out here," she lied, but her mother received it as truth. Just like the time Santana had accidentally backed into a trash can and she blamed the scratch on the neighborhood delinquents.

"Well either way dear. Please remember," she cooed. But then she eyed her daughter over, and her voice changed slightly, a change that didn't go unnoticed by Brittany. "And honey, maybe you could rearrange your afternoon schedule to fit in a run. Sitting like that easily displays what you have lost from quitting Cheerios. A decision I still don't understand…" her voice became distant as she ranted on her way back inside. Even though her volume decreased with each step, the venom of her words lingered on Santana's skin.

Brittany looked back to Santana and immediately noticed a change in her posture. Her arms were folded around her midsection, her face portraying an array of emotions, ranging from both agony and anger. But the display vanished almost as quickly as it had unfolded. Brittany knew her. She knew what she was doing. She was hiding. She was doing what Santana did best, forcing her emotions away before anyone could witness moments of what she deemed as weaknesses.

"So, how bout we blow this joint and see what kind of entertainment we can find elsewhere." Santana's voice was an octave lower than it had been earlier. Her lips curled, but her smile didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes. Brittany noticed all of this. But as Santana stood and pulled the black material of her bikini top down to cover the underside of her breasts, Brittany stood with her as if nothing was different.

* * *

><p>So when Santana mentioned finding entertainment elsewhere, she didn't realize it would eventually involve everyone from glee club. But as life would have it, her and Brittany found themselves sitting on the couch in Rachel's basement as the others fought over the choice of movie. Brittany interjected every once in a while to aid in the conversation, but Santana remained quiet. Absentmindedly sipping on the cocktail she had made courtesy the Berry Bar, Santana watched the room erupt in stubborn opinions.<p>

A finger graced Santana's thigh, and almond eyes met crystal blue. The touch ignited her skin, forcing desire to run unrestrained through her veins. "You okay?" Santana wanted to kiss her. Wanted to pour every ounce of love she had for this girl through her lips.

Instead a smile forced its way across her face as she took another sip. "Yeah. Just waiting for the Chihuahua to stop yapping about which blade of grass she'd rather pee on so that maybe we can actually watch a damn movie."

Brittany wanted sincerity. Brittany wanted the quick display of want that formed on Santana's face before she brushed it away. Brittany wanted her to stop being scared. She just didn't understand. But she vowed to herself that she wouldn't put her heart out there again until Santana was ready to hold it proudly. So Brittany waited, patiently, well sometimes patiently. On nights like this, when Santana's eyes sparkled, when her hair fell in loose curls around her face, when her shirt snug perfectly to every dip and curve, Brittany found it very difficult to wait patiently.

Santana grew uneasy under Brittany's stares. "What?"

Brittany smiled, tucked her head down to Santana's shoulder, and whispered "nothing" as if it would resolve every unanswered question. The opening credits to Moulin Rouge began to play on the screen, clearly Rachel had lost the argument, but Santana could have cared less. With Brittany's cheek pressed against her shoulder, the confines of the room began to slip from Santana's focus. The scent wafting to her nose, a mix of Brittany's shampoo and perfume, created a state of euphoria.

A genuine smile arose as the corners of Santana's luscious lips curved upward toward her eyes. She draped her arm around Brittany's shoulder to rest lazily on her hip, pulling Brittany into a side hug. A simple gesture that would easily elude the others from its true meaning. But Brittany couldn't help but smile as well. A small gesture or not, it was a step in the right direction. Right?

* * *

><p>They walked back to Brittany's house in the dark, illuminated simply by the porch lights scattered throughout the neighborhood, the crescent moon aiding slightly as it hid behind lingering clouds.<p>

"You know that's one of my favorites," Brittany's voice echoed through the empty street.

"What is?" Santana turned her head briefly to see Brittany's concentration face. Her lips were pursed together in a straight line. The strain of her furrowed eyebrows formed creases in her forehead. Santana inwardly giggled before facing forward again.

"Moulin Rouge. It's one of my favorite movies."

"And why is that?" The back of Brittany's hand brushed against her knuckle as they walked. It forced a shiver to rupture down Santana's spine. God she hated the effect Brittany had on her sometimes. The ghostly touch of her hand sparked a yearning deep inside Santana that had her squirming from within. Brittany literally turned her into a pile of mush, a pile of mush and feelings.

"Because it shows the true meaning of raw love. Two people who crave each other can't be with one another because the world has deemed it unacceptable. But they fight anyways, because they believe love is stronger than hate."

Brittany's words hit her hard, sucking the air from her lungs instantly. When did this girl get so freaking smart? The memory of the end of the school year flooded her senses. Santana wanted Brittany to hold her again, wrap her in those sturdy arms and take her away from this reality. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to be that pile of mush and feelings. So instead, she took a few stumbling steps before regaining her strength.

"She ends up dying so obviously their love wasn't strong enough. People leave, people grow apart, people die. No love can stop that from happening. Every heart dies alone." The lie wretched itself from Santana's lips before she could help it. She knew it was an automatic defense mechanism, but the words were more for herself than for Brittany. Love is like an auction. You put your heart on the table for other people to bid on, only to be turned around and resold. It's better to believe that love doesn't last than to be shocked when your heart is broken.

Brittany sighed in defeat and Santana cursed herself for being such a bitch to the one person who actually gave a damn about her. She turned toward Brittany and saw that the light in her eyes had dimmed. Her shoulders were slumped forward and Santana knew she was crushing her.

"Hey," Santana said softly, reaching for Brittany's hand. "It's just a movie." She tried to lessen the blow of her previous words.

"Yeah," Brittany muttered, but it wasn't. In Brittany's eyes, Santana was just like the girl from the movie, afraid. She's willing to let the world dictate whom she should be with, and for what? To be popular in high school? To please her fucking parents? All Brittany wanted was honesty. She wanted the sincere and vulnerable Santana who confessed her love in the middle of the freaking hallway. Where was that girl?

"I have an idea," Santana smiled, pulling Brittany from her thoughts. Brittany gave her a skeptical look as Santana's smile quickly faded to a devilish grin. She gripped Brittany's wrist and led her across the street, between a row of bushes, and into a backyard.

Santana continued to move forward, pulling her tank top over her head, revealing her black bikini she was still wearing. Brittany gulped at the sight and froze mid-step. "San, what are you doing?"

Santana turned to face her as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the material over her thighs, calves, ankles, until it was lying at her feet. "Swimming," she grinned, stepping from the dark, blue denim. She watched as Brittany's eyes rove over her. Santana thoroughly enjoyed how the roles had reversed, allowing her to regain control over the evening.

Brittany quickly glanced around the yard. The edges of the lot were lined with rows of bushes. Unlike Santana's pool, which had no privacy, the two of them were completely hidden from the view of curious neighbors.

"This isn't your pool," Brittany subconsciously responded, her eyes never leaving Santana's body.

"The Collins' went on vacation yesterday. They won't be back till Saturday." Santana allowed Brittany's eyes to linger for another second before she turned and jumped into the awaiting water.

The coolness washed away the heat from Brittany's stares as she swam to the surface, flinging her hair back from her face in the process. The strands slapped against her back as she noticed Brittany still hesitantly standing in the grass. Her toes were unconsciously digging into the ground, and Brittany was fiddling nervously with her thumbs.

"Um, Britt, in order to swim you actually have to get in the water." Santana let out a throaty giggle that caused Brittany's knees to go weak.

"San, I don't think this is a good idea." She mumbled shakily, avoiding the smoldering brown eyes looking up at her expectantly. "Lord Tubbington told me about the bears that live in this neighborhood."

Santana smiled and rolled her eyes. "Britt I really don't think bears live in Lima, Ohio. Plus, I'm pretty sure I could take a bear. Have you seen the trash that lives in my neighborhood?" She sneered, counteracting Brittany's lame excuse.

"San I don't think you could fight a bear naked."

Santana quirked her eyebrows as a smirk plagued her face. "I'm not naked Britt. But I gladly can be…"

Brittany opened her mouth to ward against the idea, but Santana was already tugging at the strings on her back and neck. The material fell easily to the water below before Santana threw it at Brittany's feet. She eyed Santana suspiciously, but before she could speak, a pair of black bottoms hit the grass with a wet thud.

"Santana, this really isn't a good idea." Brittany's eyes lingered a little too long on the upper part of Santana's breasts that were visible above the water. The rest of caramel flesh was distorted through the water, but Brittany's memory knew exactly what it looked like.

"Why don't you stop saying what isn't a good idea and just join me."

Brittany finally reached her eyes, and Santana could see questions and want flooding those clear blue spheres. "What about…"

"Let's just forget about the rules for one night." Santana's voice was confident but shaky, and Brittany couldn't help but allow her heart to beat faster in anticipation. She wanted to care that there were so many things they had to work through, so many words that needed to be spoken. But right now, all she cared about was the naked goddess in front of her. All she cared about was kissing those lips, pulling the bottom one between her own teeth. Sucking the spot on her neck where she could feel Santana's pulse, the entity that makes her alive. Licking underneath Santana's breasts, rolling an eager nipple between her lips. Grazing her stomach with chaste kisses that cause Santana's core to ripple with anticipation. Brittany just wanted Santana, and that's all she cared about right now.

Brittany's clothes fell to the grass in a hurry. Her limbs couldn't move fast enough for her own liking. She managed to make her way to the water's edge, but hesitated. Santana looked at her with increasing lust, her eyes turning a shade darker. Brittany's heart fluttered from her chest. She reached behind her and untied her bikini top. She slowly allowed the material to slip from her fingers, and let it fall to the ground. Santana's eyes flickered to Brittany's breasts, and she unconsciously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Brittany looped her thumbs in the material by her hips and pulled it down slowly. She watched intently as Santana's eyes followed her hands down her creamy legs. Brittany's hands were shaking uncontrollably, but she managed to discard her swimsuit to the ground next to her. She gulped back the rest of her questions and uncertainty as Santana's eyes fell back to hers.

"Come here," Santana whispered seductively, and Brittany gave in immediately. She walked to the steps leading into the water and slowly maneuvered her way into the pool. The water lapped at Brittany's ankles, creating goose bumps across her skin. Santana swam toward her, a smile plastered to her face the entire time. Santana's eyes roamed again and Brittany couldn't help the blush that formed on her cheeks.

Santana noticed the hint of blush and uncertainty painted across Brittany's face. "You okay?" She asked, her voice laced with concern and lust.

"You're staring." Brittany replied as her arms immediately crossed over her chest.

"That's because you're beautiful." Santana didn't miss a beat as the answer rolled off her tongue. She reached toward Brittany, grabbing her gently by the wrists, and easing her fully into the water. She moved her hands up Brittany's arm and down her back, feeling a shiver escape her body in the process.

"Are you cold?"

"A little," Brittany replied, her eyes never leaving the brown orbs staring back at her. "San, we shouldn't…" Brittany began to protest again, but her voice was silenced as Santana's lips captured hers. They slid elegantly against Brittany's, forcing the world around her to become a foggy haze.

Santana kissed her top lip and Brittany elicited a groan. Santana kissed her bottom lip and Brittany let out a moan.

Santana clawed at Brittany's porcelain back. Her fingers were desperate, stimulating, and passionate. Santana's nails scraped between ribs and Brittany had to fight the urge to surrender completely. She couldn't let this get too far. She won't. Has she already? She refused to go back to being Santana's secret. But god she made it so hard sometimes.

Santana's tongue flicked across her lips, begging for entrance, and she had to pull away. She began to retreat but Santana's hands on the small of her back prevented her from going too far.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes were pleading with desire. With love. With everything Brittany wanted from her that the rest of Santana wouldn't give her.

"I'm sorry. We can't do this."

"Why?"

"You know why." Brittany's voice dropped, as did Santana's hands, and Brittany stepped back a little to put some distance between them.

An air of silence overcame them, neither daring to look at the other. Santana could see that Brittany had re-crossed her arms over her chest, and she imitated the action with her own. Without the heat of Brittany's body pressed against hers, the cool water forced a tiny shiver through Santana's core. The hair on her arms began to rise, and she noticed Brittany had similar goose bumps on her own arms.

"I'm sorry," Santana muttered.

"For what?' Brittany replied, finally looking up at Santana as she saw her retreating form to the side of the pool. The physical action mirrored Santana's emotional struggle, the idea that hiding the truth is better than fighting for the unknown.

"That I can't give you what you need." It was so soft and muted by the pool's edge and Brittany barely heard it. But she did, and she heard Santana's heart break all over again. She could hear the defeat in Santana's voice. She could hear the fears lacing every syllable. She could hear it all, and when Brittany didn't think she could love this girl any more than she already did, Santana opened her mouth to speak again. "You deserve so much more than me."

Here was the vulnerable girl from the hallway the day she first confessed her love. Here was the scared girl who made up a dumb rumor about her and Karofsky to avoid going to prom with Brittany. Here was the girl who built a fortress around her emotions, but every once in a while she'd lower the bridge across the moat and give Brittany another reason to love her.

Brittany swam toward her, just as she was about to climb out of the water, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's most definitely the other way around."

Santana turned to face her, her eyebrows scrunching upward in confusion. Brittany placed her hands against the ledge of the pool on either side of Santana's face, pinning her in place.

"What are you talking about Britt?"

"I'm saying, you deserve much more than me." As Santana shook her head and opened her mouth to speak in protest, Brittany placed a finger to her lips. "Shh. Let me speak." And Santana crumbled in defeat, but the oh so good kind. The kind that turns your legs to jelly. The kind that makes your heart beat in anticipation.

"You are perfection to me." She began and Santana's eyes closed. "Yes. You say you have your flaws, but they don't matter to me." Brittany's hand cupped Santana's chin, begging her to open her eyes. When she did, Brittany's glare latched on and didn't let her go.

"And one day, I'm gonna break down all your walls and prove to you that loving me is something to be proud of. I'm going to spend the rest of summer vacation showing you that loving me isn't wrong. I'm going to do everything in my power to be the person you deserve so that you won't be scared to be mine."

Santana closed her eyes and a tear escaped down her cheek. Brittany's thumb was there instantly, wiping it away with so much love that it broke Santana's heart. "That's not fair to you." She shook her head in defiance as another tear fell to the water below.

"I don't care." Brittany breathed, running the pad of her thumb over Santana's cheek again.

"I can't ask you to wait for me."

"You're not asking." Brittany snickered as her other hand dove under the water to caress Santana's ribs. Santana fought the urge to free herself as the graze tickled her and set her skin on fire simultaneously.

"It's so selfish…"

"I can be selfless for a while."

"Do you have an answer for everything?" Santana couldn't help but choke out a giggle through sobs, slowly bringing her gaze back to Brittany's eyes.

A smile tugged at Brittany's lips, curling them upward as her eyes sparkled from the neighbor's kitchen light. "No I do not," she stated simply. "But I'm going to try."

And Santana couldn't contain the love and adoration she had for this girl anymore. She was beyond amazing. Like seriously, amazing couldn't even begin to describe Brittany. She was unbelievably loyal, and her love literally had no bounds. It was unconditional. She wasn't afraid to wear her heart on her sleeve because she was willing to trust that no one was going to hurt her. She's fucking sexy, but that's a given. But one of the best things about Brittany is the fact that out of everyone in the entire world, she wanted Santana. She wanted her, and somehow that became the first step in helping Santana accept herself.

"I love you. You know that right?" Santana breathed, and Brittany nodded in response. "I don't want you ever questioning the fact that I love you." And with that she wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's neck. Brittany looped her arms around Santana's waist, pulling them inevitably closer. Bare skin slid against bare skin. Full breasts pressed against full breasts. And Santana couldn't help it as she subconsciously wrapped her legs around Brittany's waist. Brittany's hip bones probed against Santana's inner thigh, and Santana squeezed her legs tighter in need for more intimacy. Brittany reacted by piercing Santana's back with her nails.

Neither went for more. They simply held each other. And that was more than enough for both of them.

"You are wrong about one thing though," Santana whispered into Brittany's ear.

Her eyes remained closed as Santana's voice tickled her skin and sent shivers down her spine. "Mhm, what about?"

"I don't deserve more than you. You are everything to me." And with that Brittany clung closer, molding her body against Santana's until she felt like they had merged into one.

* * *

><p>"Mija, there's a letter for you on the kitchen table. I'm leaving for work. Leftovers in the microwave." Santana heard as her mother called up the stairs. The front door was opened and shut moments later, and Santana peeled herself from her bed. Jersey Shore continued to play on the TV in the corner as she made her way into the hall and down the stairs.<p>

Her bare feet hit the cold, tiled floor as she entered the kitchen. After opening the microwave and seeing what had been left for her, she decided against dinner for the evening. The simple sight of leftover meatloaf and steamed veggies forced a weight of heaviness upon her stomach. She fought the urge to throw the food away; knowing the sight of it in the trash wouldn't please her mother.

Making her way to the table, she fingered the white envelope that simply contained Santana's name. Eyeing it suspiciously, she flipped it, tore it open, and pulled out its contents.

_Letter One._

_Dear Santana,_

_Do you remember that time in second grade when the teacher asked us to draw our favorite animal? We didn't know each other, but you sat two seats in front of me. I took out my crayons and began to draw. I'm pretty sure I only used one color though, which is pretty unrealistic because no animal is really only one color. Unless it's an ant or something, but who's favorite animal is an ant?_

_Anyways, I was busy drawing when the boy sitting next to me grabbed my paper and started making fun of me for drawing a duck. He went on and on about how ducks were stupid and anyone who likes ducks was probably stupid too. Do you remember what happened next? I do. This short little girl with hair as dark as charcoal whipped around in her chair and began yelling in a language I had never heard. She walked back to the boy, ripped my drawing from his hands, and then proceeded to make fun of him for the fact that he had drawn a fish, since apparently the only thing worth noting about fish was the fact that they get flushed down the toilet._

_This feisty, little girl then continued to hand me back my drawing, wink, and went back to her seat. When I craned my neck to see what animal she had drawn, I noticed the paper was blank. And I became sad because I figured she didn't have a favorite animal, and everyone should have a favorite animal. So I scribbled a note around my duck, and as the bell rang for recess, I placed it on her desk before running outside._

_Do you remember what I found on my desk when I came back in? There, next to the note I had written about giving her my duck so she could have a favorite animal, were the words 'you can be my favorite animal'. Do you remember this day? Because this was the day I met my best friend. The girl who fought some boy because I like ducks. The girl who would grow into the one who would continue to stand up for me when I needed her. This was the day I met you Santana. This was the day my life changed because you decided that I was gonna be your favorite animal._

_I'm your favorite._

_You decided it. You wrote it. You believed it. And because of that, ten years later, when asked what your favorite animal is you blush. Because I'm still your favorite._

_Reason #1: I like ducks, and you like me._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce._

Santana smiled as she folded the letter back into the envelope and raced back upstairs. Sammy and Ronnie continued to yell at each other on the television screen as she sat at her desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, ripped off a piece, and picked up a marker.

After scribbling down some words, she grabbed a piece of tape from her drawer and walked to her closet. On the inside of the right door, she placed the piece of paper to the wood panel and smoothly applied the adhesive to the top side, sealing it in place. Stepping back, she smiled at the words glaring back at her.

Reason #1: She likes ducks and I like her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow. I'm blown away by the response of this story. And it's only been one chapter. Now I just hope I don't disappoint anyone! Please continue with the reviews. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm not sure how long this is going to be yet. So plenty of angst left to discover. Also, my tumblr is located in my profile. I love new followers, and my ask is always open!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two – Clowns Scare Her but I Don't <strong>

The late afternoon air provided little relief to the summer heat. It swept through the crack in the window that was barely large enough to fit Santana's petite frame. When she was younger, Santana often left the window completely open in order to sneak out. One evening however, Dr. Lopez had figured it out, and the tree outside Santana's window was conveniently cut down the following morning. The window had also been maneuvered in a way that didn't allow it to open any further than its current state.

As Santana sat on the window's sill, the light breeze gripped her right knee in a welcomed gesture. Shoulders slumped forward in an effort to give more skin the pleasure. Her right ankle was pulled beneath her left leg, allowing the latter to dangle casually beneath her.

Each uneven inhale satiated her. Santana urgently clung to the smoke in her lungs. The fiery vapor burned the top of her tongue and the back of her throat in a way that was almost comforting. It was her mouth's way of communicating that it was foreign, but not entirely undesirable. The smoke was expelled moments later, rolling across her skin, and slipping out the window as it mixed easily with static air. She needed this. It calmed her. It soothed her. It distracted her.

For the better part of the last hour, Isabella Lopez _commented_ on Santana's choice of attire for idle summer days. A daughter of a respected doctor needs to keep up her appearance. What if someone important stops by? _Seriously?_ It's highly unlikely that Obama is going to stop by Lima Fucking Ohio to congratulate Dr. Lopez on his work. But what her mother wants, she gets. Including a freshly showered Santana, complete with loose spiral curls that bounced with each subtle movement she made.

The honey edges of the cigar coated her lips, causing her tongue to slip between her parted mouth as she tried to keep them from drying out. The sweetness of the taste always surprised her, no matter how many times she smoked. With each puff of smoke her agitation lessened. The muscles in her face relaxed. The tightness of her jaw slackened. One more year and she was out of this house. One more year and she could leave this idea of _perfection_ behind.

"I don't like when you smoke. It makes your mouth taste like Voldemort."

The intrusion diverted Santana from her mental tirade. She coughed. "What?" She managed, choking out the constricting smoke.

"He was made of ash or something. Remember how his face crumbled?"

"Britt, he isn't real." Another cloud of smoke swelled around Santana as Brittany remained in the doorway.

Blue eyes found carpet, shoulders shrugged, and a mumbled response was iterated. "I still don't like when you smoke."

"I thought we weren't kissing anymore."

"Well Lord Tubbington looks up to you. If he thinks I allow you to smoke, then he'll continue to do it."

Santana let out a giggle despite the ridiculousness of Brittany's words. Without hesitating, her hand reached through the window and stamped out the cigar on the underside of the sill. "What's with the outfit Britt?" Santana murmured, finally taking in Brittany's wardrobe. Santana's nostrils flared in unison with knitted eyebrows.

Blonde hair was secured tightly in a bun at the base of Brittany's neck. The sleekness of it told Santana she had done it while her hair was still wet. A light blue polo draped over her torso, blending into a pair of blue and yellow plaid shorts that stopped right above her knees. Brown Sperry's completed the ensemble.

"I wanted to look the part."

"You look like the offspring of Tiger Woods and Ellen DeGeneres." Santana chuckled lightly as Brittany's shoulders rose and fell in silence.

"We're going golfing. This is what golfers wear."

The clarity in her voice signaled to Santana that Brittany had in fact researched the topic. That thought alone caused Santana's heart to swell in adoration. The idea of Brittany googling what golfers wear was beyond adorable. "Britt, we're going mini-golfing. It's not the same thing."

Brittany's face spoke confusion. Her eyebrows rose and came together above the bridge of her nose. The corners of her eyes lowered. Her face cocked to the side. Santana wanted to slip from their _just-friends-but-working-on-it _façade. She wanted to kiss the uncertainty from Brittany's un-glossed lips.

Instead, Santana coughed nervously. Brittany needed new clothes, and Santana needed to stop staring. So she walked toward her closet, each step a distraction from Brittany's lips.

Opening the left door, she quickly found the black tank top she had worn last summer when Puck had tossed her into one the pools he had been hired to clean. Lying on top of a pile of clothes on the floor, she grabbed her pair of red jean shorts that Quinn had bought her on her sixteenth birthday. She had last worn the outfit when her father had taken her grocery shopping three weeks ago. Grouping the garments in her left hand, she tossed them at Brittany. "Here. I think these will be much more appealing than the Rosie O'Donnell look you're currently sporting."

Santana moved to her dresser, allowing her fingers to roam absentmindedly over the objects scattered on top. Her hand skirted across the pearl necklace her mother had given her upon completing Confirmation. Her other gift that day, the set of scarlet Rosary beads, stayed in a leather case at the bottom of her underwear drawer. The pad of her pointer finger traced the outline of a stray ring. A thin line at the top. A thick column down the middle. A pointed "u" at the bottom. The cold metal numbed her fingertip as she finished outlining the anchor.

Brittany's fingers began to fumble with the black buttons of her shorts. The image of Brittany's thighs as they emerged from the obtrusive fabric mocked Santana. Each inch of uncovered flesh begged Santana to touch it. To kiss it. To run her hands over smooth calves and freckled thighs. Her mouth watered slightly, almost animalistic in nature, forcing Santana to lick her lips in recognition of her blatant staring. She completely forgot to add the piece of jewelry to her finger. The display transfixed her, like a clock that had suddenly stopped ticking. Through the mirror, Santana continued to watch as tiny, red shorts eased their way into place. The piece of clothing seemed much shorter on longer legs, and Santana laughed inwardly at the thought of Quinn's reaction. She suspected Quinn didn't mean for them to be seen as revealing.

Nimble fingers were almost a blur as they hastily grabbed the hem of the blue polo. Brittany's scar from the first time she had tried flipping on a trampoline became visible as the fabric bunched at her bellybutton. Stomach muscles tensed and relaxed almost rhythmically while the shirt continued to travel upward. She imagined using her own fingers as drum sticks against the hardened flesh, creating a beat for each muscle to dance to unashamedly. Santana had to force herself to look away. She closed her eyes before turning back to the top of her dresser, feigning interest in a knick in the wood.

It would be near impossible to contain herself if she were allowed a peek at what came next. Even without seeing, Santana knew what they looked like. Until the day she died, she would never forget what they looked like. Milky flesh swelled to form mounds that fit perfectly in Santana's hands. Perky nipples constantly pleaded for some form of contact. Her left breast displayed a mole that was visible above every bra she wore. Santana's hands shook with the sudden need to cup Brittany's breasts, but she managed to fit the ring on her middle finger without faltering.

Santana took an unsteady breath, fixed her gaze on the ground as she walked toward her bed, and sat on the edge. Her eyes cautiously glanced back toward Brittany. The black material dipped low to scoop across her chest. It pinched in the middle, cupping each breast to create the illusion of fuller cleavage. The bottom of the top looked pleated as it fell loosely around her stomach. The hem barely reached the top of her shorts, allowing a sliver of skin to peek through the flowing material.

"Much better," Santana gulped, and Brittany returned the compliment with a child-like smile that was both innocent and sexy. Her lips remained closed, but the corners of her mouth rose to form puffed cheeks. She took up the spot Santana vacated in front of the mirror, and Santana watched as Brittany examined her eyelashes before reaching for Santana's mascara. "Do we really have to go?"

"I think it'll be fun." Brittany's face beamed as she bounced in place. The elevated pitch of her voice rang clear in Santana's ears. She looked at Santana through the mirror as she paused her application of mascara. "Why don't you want to go?"

"Spending my evening with a bunch of neurotic rabbits does not sound like fun."

"What does sound like fun then?" Brittany's words were sharp, but not intended to wound. She didn't understand why Santana couldn't see the rest of them like Brittany did. She didn't understand why Santana couldn't see them as family. She didn't understand why Santana couldn't trust them enough to accept her.

Brittany noticed as Santana's distressed expression quickly and flawlessly transformed to one of desire. It was easy to tease when Brittany was fully clothed. She knew deep down they were going mini-golfing, no matter how many subtle hints of other activities she threw in Brittany's direction.

"Not that kind of fun San."

Santana rolled her eyes in response even though it was the reply she expected. She slyly crossed her legs in an effort to seem undeterred by Brittany's refusal. If Brittany wanted to decline her advances, Santana would make sure Brittany knew exactly what she was missing out on.

Brittany's eyes roamed over Santana's legs. Delicate flesh between skirt and sandals taunted her, almost swaying her decision. Boned ankles extended to bronzed legs, Santana's birthmark on the back of her right calf hidden from view as it pressed against her left shin. Brittany wanted to feel the texture of skin as it transformed from bony knees to soft thighs, her hand making its way toward the black crevice the edges of the skirt created. She shook her head to clear it, focusing her attention back upon herself. Examining her reflection, Brittany pulled the hair tie from her hair and allowed it to fall freely over her shoulders.

Santana watched proudly as Brittany looked her over. But after noticing the light in Brittany's eyes grow dark with lust, the air around her grew warm, almost suffocating. Her heart pounded in her chest. Brittany turned toward her, and Santana noticed the quick intake and release of breath. A mannerism Brittany did to try and slow her own rapid heartbeat. Santana always found it odd because most people tried to slow their breathing. She opened her mouth to speak, but the heat vanished as her bedroom door was opened.

"Santana honey," Mrs. Lopez began before she noticed the second figure. "Oh, hello Brittany. I didn't know we had company." Her words were spoken slower, slightly higher in pitch. A way that let Santana know she should have asked first.

"Evening Izzie," Brittany greeted. Brittany was the only person who was allowed to call Mrs. Lopez this. And Santana kind of hated it.

"You look lovely dear." She addressed Brittany; a genuine smile plastered from ear to ear. A smile Santana hadn't seen since Daddy had received his Christmas bonus last year. "Maybe you can teach my daughter a thing or two about fashion in the summer. She seems to think the season is a time to sport the apparel of one of those starving, homeless children you see in those commercials."

"Oh Izzie this is…" Brittany started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Mom, what is it exactly you need?" The tone in Santana's voice told Brittany it was pointless to try and tell her mother the truth. Once she had her mind made up about something, it was impossible to alter it.

"Your father called. I'm headed to meet him for drinks with Dr. Rashid and his wife. I'm not sure when we'll be home."

"I'll probably sleep at Britt's. We're going mini-golfing with the kids from glee."

"Well, isn't that…lovely." She eyed her daughter over, making Santana feel smaller and more fragile. The way a baby bird is pushed back toward the center of the nest because the mother doesn't think it can fly yet. The genuine smile she had given Brittany was replaced by an infectious grin. Her lips were tighter, and the expanse of the smile decreased significantly. It displayed a different meaning from the look she had given Brittany. A meaning Santana had not figured out yet.

Brittany noticed as Santana's eyes lowered, almost submissively. Her spine remained sturdy, forcing her tiny abdomen to appear taller than it really was. It was a contradiction of sorts, and Brittany's confusion doubled as she took it all in.

"Yeah well. We should probably get going Britt." Santana rose to her feet, grabbed Brittany by the wrist, and evacuated the room quickly.

"Have fun girls." Mrs. Lopez called from the doorway. They sauntered down the beige carpeted hallway toward the stairs. Littered across the walls were family photos that documented Santana's growth from infancy to seventeen. Brittany always liked the picture of Santana running through a corn maze around the age of five. Her hair was tangled and messy, falling slightly above her shoulders. She was wearing a pink dress with white sandals. She just seemed so care and worry free that it often made Brittany jealous she didn't witness the moment in person.

"Thanks Izzie," Brittany responded over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>"I don't think this could get any worse if it tried," Santana whined.<p>

A quick summer rain had rolled through the area during their drive. The spastic weather had forced a stifling humidity upon them, causing the air to become thick and moist. Their skin was sticky with sweat as they walked from one hole to the next. Mosquitoes swarmed every ounce of flesh they could get their mouths on. On top of that, Santana was not good at mini-golf in the slightest. Brittany couldn't help but giggle at how pathetic Santana really looked. Stray hairs had frizzed in the overwhelming heat, reminding Brittany of the time they had rubbed balloons on their heads at cheer camp. Each time Santana's ball rolled off course, her club would conspicuously hit the offended turf. The clear frustration made Brittany laugh because she knew Santana ultimately cared about doing well.

"Maybe if you would act like you were having fun you would actually have fun San," Brittany offered as a response.

Lights littered the course few and far between. It forced Santana to squint in Brittany's direction, almost as if the penetrating light was offensive to her eyes. She took in the features of Brittany's face that were visible from the illumination to her right. The edges of Brittany's nose casted a dark shadow on the left side of her face, a scene of mystery Santana wanted to solve with curious fingers. The corner of Brittany's mouth visible curved toward her eyes, as the other faded into the darkness of the shadows. It was as if her face was split down the center, one a glimpse of innocent beauty, the other left up to interpretation.

The immediate desire to pull Brittany completely into the shadows overtook Santana. The darkness would give them the opportunity to explore each other without the sense of sight. The work of fingers and tongues as they put the dips and curves of flesh to memory. Her own smile engulfed her pressed lips, Santana's annoyance dissipating with each image of discovery.

"Santana it's your turn." Rachel's voice burst through Santana's mental investigation. She looked back toward hole eight and saw Rachel waiting, her right hand secured on a cocked hip. "We should have split the group in two. People who don't take as long could be done by now instead of waiting for balls to be retrieved by those with less accuracy."

Santana squared her shoulders to Ms. Polly Pocket. Her spine straightened almost inhumanly, arching in a way that looked painful. "Shut your trap Berry. Not all of us have time to participate in childish activities every day. Some of us actually have lives."

Rachel looked like she wanted to counter, but Finn kindly grabbed her by the forearm and led her toward Kurt and Mercedes.

"Come on San. Let's see whatcha got." Brittany encouraged, nudging the back of Santana's calf with the slimy metal of her mini-golf club.

Santana stomped through damp grass. Reaching the start of the hole, she placed her purple ball on the green. Bringing her club back, she released it against the sphere with a dull thud. It sprang across the velvety green. Skipped over a hilly obstacle. Before veering to the left and crashing into a pile of rocks.

"Well at least this time it didn't land in the water." Quinn reasoned. Santana shot her a challenging look. Santana cocked her head as wrinkles formed from raised eyebrows. Quinn deflated, her shoulders shrugging as if to say it was a joke.

Santana fished her ball out of the rocks and placed it back on course. One tap. Back to the bottom of the hill. Another tap. Over to the outer brick lining. A third tap. Open green. Another tap had it teetering on the rim. A final tap and it clanked to the bottom of the hole. Mumbled appreciated echoed from the group as her feet crawled toward her ball. The few that had still been watching slowly turned away. They began to walk toward the ninth hole as Santana took her time in retrieving her ball from the white, plastic cup.

"See, you're getting better." Brittany offered, brushing her hand softly against Santana's bare shoulder.

Her fingers sent Santana reeling from the contact. Although the thick air already had her skin crawling with sweat, Brittany's touch burned her. She immediately wanted to itch the infected skin, a means to both alleviate it and spread it further. She opted to shrug it off instead.

"What's wrong?" Brittany's voice softened with increasing uncertainty.

"Nothing B. I'm just really hot. I think I'm gonna go back to the shop and get something cold to drink while you guys continue." Her tone was louder as the muscles in her face relaxed.

Brittany watched these changes, taking in the way her voice briefly hitched at the word "nothing". Her head nod signified she had understood the underlying meaning to Santana's words. "You want me to come with?"

"No. Go on and have fun." Santana smirked, reaching out and giving Brittany's hand a reassuring squeeze. She knew Brittany was enjoying herself.

"Are you sure?" Brittany's voice rose in skepticism.

"Yeah. I think you're up next anyways." Santana smirked, nodding her head in the direction of the others.

Brittany returned the smile, nodded, and then turned on her heels. Santana hesitated, almost regretting her decision for company as she watched freckled shoulders peek behind bobbing blonde hair. Once Santana saw the joy on Brittany's face as she brought back her club, she knew it had been the right decision.

Santana walked back to The Putt Hut at the front of the mini-golf course. The rickety door creaked as she opened it weakly, and the sound of it slamming shut startled her. Her eyes closed unconsciously with risen shoulders as she winced at the sound. Within seconds, she stood in front of the drink cooler, scanning the different labels with phony interest. All of the liquids that would actually taste good contained too many calories for her liking, so she grabbed a bottle of water in defeat. Santana walked toward the counter and set it on top of the old wood.

"Is that it for ya?" The man behind the counter had to have been pushing eighty, Santana reasoned. His white hair lingered in patches across his head. Wrinkles lined his forehead, the corners of his eyes, and his lips as he smiled at her, revealing a few gaps in his dental plan.

"That's it." Santana handed him a flimsy dollar and two silver coins as the cash register chimed in acceptance. As she exited, her hands guided the door close in an effort to keep it quiet.

Instead of returning to the group right away, figuring her twenty-minute shots weren't missed, Santana lazily slumped into a bench. The front porch contained an oak railing and several benches for those needing a place to wait. Santana inferred that most people who sat here were waiting on people to finish, while she sat to avoid finishing. She unscrewed the cap of her water, choosing to concentrate on the bottle in her hands.

She would wait a few minutes, join her friends as they were approaching the thirteenth hole, and mutter some exaggerated sadness of missing out on four holes. It's not like she hated being here, well she did actually. She hated sucking at golf, the ridiculous weather, and Rachel's smug smile after she always made par. But being around them doing something she despised was better than sitting at home by herself.

"Can I join?" Santana's eyes moved upward from the ground as they surveyed hairy legs, Walmart brand jean shorts, a red t-shirt that looked like it had been run over a few times, a rugged chin, and landed upon smoldering brown eyes. He immediately disgusted her, and she didn't know why. When she didn't respond, he asked again.

"I don't own the bench," she replied, clear annoyance in every syllable.

He smirked, letting out a huffed laugh as he sat down next to her. Santana concluded he probably went to the community college down the road. His features indicated years of living, not necessarily wisdom. The stubble under his nose was thicker than the boys from school. It was kind of nauseating the way it resembled a caterpillar when he moved his lips.

"The name's Jake." She nodded in understanding. He waited for a response, but got none as she continued to take sips of her water. He eyed her over, taking in the fullness of her cheeks and lips, the rise and fall of her chest as she took in shallow self-conscious breaths, the crossing of tanned legs.

"Santana," she finally muttered with annoyance. As he began to speak again, she noticed as his eyes constantly fell to her breasts.

"Well Santana. I see you're sitting here by yourself…"

"I'm gonna stop you there Jakey. I'm not interested." Her eyes judged his for a moment before she turned her head away.

"Dressing like that, you sure give the wrong impression." His words were revolting, sending a shiver of disgust down her spine.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was a crime to dress appropriate to the weather."

"I didn't know it was a crime to hit on pretty girls." He shot back, smugness radiating off of him in waves.

"Like I said," she repeated as she stood to her feet. "Not. Interested." Each word enunciated clearly. Standing before him, Santana noticed the burn on his neck beneath his jaw. The familiarity of the scar unnerved her.

She slapped on a fake smile before making her way back to the group of misfits in the far corner of the course. Her legs felt shaky, as if added weight or pressure threatened their very function. Her destination felt like it would never be reached as she hurdled rocks, maneuvered around other holes, and even had to duck from a rogue ball that belonged to a snotty seven-year-old boy.

An uproar of cheers echoed through the area. Her attention shot toward them, and she immediately noticed Brittany jumping up and down as she shouted "Hole in one." Santana almost hesitated in her movements as she saw the happiness painted across Brittany's elegant features. She turned to fore go her request, but Brittany spotted her.

"San, did you see? Rachel got a hole in one." Her voice was vibrant, overflowing with sheer joy. Brittany held her hand in the air, and Rachel looked at it skeptically before raising hers as well. Brittany closed the gap with an echoed high-five.

However, when she noticed the pained look on Santana's face, Brittany's features fell instantly. The corners of her eyes and lips dropped, and her eyebrows rose in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Can we get out of here?"

"Is everything okay?" Brittany's eyes searched hers for answers.

"I just want to leave. Please." Santana couldn't shake the feeling that had overcome her. Being hit on wasn't something new for her, but it was the way he had done it. The cockiness, the certainty that she was willing to reciprocate his advances. The indignant tone of his voice and the piece of flawed skin on his neck had reminded her of too much. And it crawled under her skin, slithering its way through her like a snake's venom.

Brittany could tell something was off. Santana was sweating, but it was more than just the heat. Her face seemed paler in comparison to the rest of her body. "Yeah," she mumbled, nodding her head in agreement.

Brittany ran back to Quinn and whispered something in her ear. Santana watched as Quinn glanced in her direction, and she crossed her arms over her chest as she waited. Quinn and Brittany exchanged smiles before Brittany turned back toward Santana. Strong fingers wrapped around a fragile wrist, pulling Santana's arms from her chest in the process. The two of them retreated to Brittany's white Civic.

* * *

><p>"Can we stay outside? I need some fresh air." Santana asked as they approached Brittany's front door. The thought of being contained inside at the moment suffocated her. The encounter with Jake had poisoned her, and she wanted to wait out its symptoms without the threat of being enclosed somewhere.<p>

"Sure. Let me grab some blankets and we can lay in the back yard." Brittany disappeared into the brick house. Santana watched the front door open and could see that the lights were off, indicating that the rest of the Pierce family had already gone to bed.

After the door was closed, Santana turned to walk to the side of the house. She looped her arm underneath the top beam of the gate in order to reach its latch. She never understood why the latch was so difficult to find, but Brittany had once explained that it was the gate's way of deciding who was allowed in the back yard. Once you figured out its secret, you could enter. But apparently the gate expected secrets in return or the latch would move to a different location. Santana knew the idea was ridiculous, but she couldn't help but play along, fearing that Brittany would come home one afternoon and not be able to find the latch and it would be her fault.

"I keep a copy of the Glee Club's Yearbook photo from sophomore year in my desk drawer." She smiled at the absurdity of the act of speaking to a gate, and the actual words spoken. But it was comforting. The act of doing something Brittany would want her to do.

The yard wasn't as big as her own, and it didn't have a pool, but the fence outlined a quaint area complete with two large oaks. One of which Brittany had fallen out of in fifth grade, breaking her arm in two places. Several rows of varying flowers lined the perimeter, many missing heads. Brittany never told her, but Santana had found the book of pressed petals in her nightstand one night. Mrs. Pierce planted a small vegetable garden in the corner to teach her daughters responsibility. Santana noticed the green beans and tomatoes instantly. She needed to remind Brittany they were ready to be picked.

Brittany entered the yard through the sliding door as Santana heard it click shut. A pink afghan was draped over her forearm, and Brittany had pulled her hair into a side ponytail to cool the back of her neck.

Brittany sidled up next to Santana, and arranged the blanket over the grass, plopping down with the grace only a natural dancer could muster. Brittany would have let Santana help, but she usually left a side folded or a corner tucked. The action always brought a look of mixture of jealousy and awe to Santana's face.

Santana settled into the spot next to her, elbows touching elbows, ankles brushing ankles. Her head rolled back slightly to gaze upward at the night sky. The clouds from the previous storm were completely gone, allowing them to view the stars unimpeded. The clear, dark backdrop was the perfect contrast to the radiance of each blinking star. It was almost breathtaking, but Santana would argue that the girl lying next to her was more capable of taking someone's breath away.

"Did something happen when you went for water?" Brittany's head turned so her cheek was lying flat against the blanket, eyes boring into the side of Santana's face. She watched as Santana shook her head in response, and understood that she obviously didn't want to talk about it.

Brittany returned her gaze to the sky above. "Did you know that the Big Dipper and Little Dipper are actually bears?"

Santana's head shot to the right as the silliness of the question hit her. "Did you have something to drink while you were inside?"

A laugh erupted inside of Brittany, the joyous and intoxicating sound exploding past her lips. "San I'm talking about the stars. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. They mean great bear and small bear." Her hand lifted in the air, pointing to a set of stars almost directly above them. Santana noticed as Brittany's eyes narrowed, as if tunneling her vision directly to what she wanted to see.

"And how is it you know this exactly?"

"You know how in The Lion King, they say Mufasa is watching over Simba because he's in the stars? Well that always confused me. So I began looking into it. And I found that constellations are actually pretty interesting. There's just something beautiful about the way these infinite lights can string together to form shapes that will always be there. This constant piece of art in an ever-changing world."

Santana swallowed the love that had clumped in her throat, forcing it back down inside of her. People always underestimated Brittany. Santana was not innocent of that mistake either. But seeing this. Seeing her face light up with admiration and intelligence. It was a side of Brittany she longed for. She scooted closer, gently placing her head on Brittany's chest. "Show me more."

Brittany smiled, sliding her left arm underneath Santana, wrapping it securely around Santana's waist. She took in a steady breath as her free arm pointed to an area to their far left. "That one there. That's Orion, the hunter."

Santana squinted in the direction of Brittany's pointing. "I don't see it."

Brittany clasped Santana's wrist and guided her finger, tracing the outline of the constellation with both of their hands. "Many myths depict him as a famed hunter who often boasted that he was unstoppable. In some stories, he is defeated by a scorpion, and both of them were placed in the heavens, on opposite sides of the sky where they can't be seen at the same time."

Santana smiled against Brittany's chest as she listened intently to every word she spoke. Brittany guided her hand to the right, tracing another outline. "That one there is Leo, the lion." Santana couldn't really see it, but she nodded anyways. She didn't care if she saw the shapes. All she cared about was listening to Brittany as she excitedly pointed them out.

Santana's arm dropped from Brittany's grasp. She draped it over the exposed skin of Brittany's stomach where her shirt had ridden up.

Brittany continued without Santana's hand, moving slightly to the left. "That one is Cancer, the crab."

Santana's face rose and fell with each breath Brittany took, the motion lulling her. Here, wrapped in Brittany's arms, listening to Brittany's voice, this was where Santana felt safe. This was where she felt alive. Her eyes closed in response. Brittany's words continued to float around her as she slowly drifted to sleep.

Brittany heard the unevenness of Santana's breath somewhere between Cassiopeia and Andromeda. She placed a lingering kiss on Santana's head, hugging both of her arms around Santana to pull her closer. She allowed her own eyes to drift close as her breathing began to match Santana's.

* * *

><p>Santana had returned home the following morning to find another envelope on her desk. She grinned wide as the memory of last night and the excitement of the letter flooded her. Tearing it open, she pulled the parchment out and unfolded it.<p>

_Letter Two._

_Dear Santana,_

_Do you remember our first sleep over? We were eight. My mom called yours to ask for permission. I remember thinking how lame you probably thought I was because my mom had to call for me. She told me girls my age didn't need to use the phone yet. She didn't understand that you already had your own cell phone. I remember playing that snake game on it at recess, but I always died before you. I still don't understand why the snake couldn't touch itself. My sister's snake Rosy touches herself all the time. _

_Anyways, my parents let us watch The Parent Trap, and you said how cool it would be to have a sister. I told you that you could have mine, which I later got yelled at for. I was just trying to be nice, but apparently saying your sister can be a part of someone else's family is a bad thing. After the movie, we were told to go to bed. Do you remember what we did instead? We built that fort in my room using my blankets and pillows. _

_We started telling scary stories, and you asked if I heard the one about the clown in the closet. Little did you know clowns are my biggest fear. Do you remember how you had to hold me as I cried for an hour after you told it? Do you remember having to walk me to the bathroom because I was too scared to go alone? Do you remember having to sleep with the light on, and how we tied the door handles of my closet together with a jump rope?_

_I bet you remember when I finally rolled over to fall asleep. I bet you remember stroking my hair from my cheek to place a peck there. I bet you remember whispering that you wish I were your sister so you could take care of me as we grew up. I bet you're probably blushing now because you didn't know I heard you. I know you didn't want me to hear those words, but I'm so glad I did. _

_Even though being my sister now would be gross, your meaning of those words then is true. You have taken care of me as I grew up. And we will take care of each other as we continue to grow older. I'm not scared to be with you. I'm not scared of what our relationship will be._

_It started with a clown. And I swear Santana, that clown better never come to live in my closet. I think I should tie the handles together again. Hold on, I think I hear something. What if it's the clown? _

_Don't worry, it was just Lord Tubbington. He likes to play with the hangers. _

_Reason #2: Clowns scare me but you don't. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce._

A shaky tear slid down Santana's right cheek as she folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope. She slid it into her desk drawer that contained the first one. Minutes later, a second scrap of paper joined the other on the inside of her right closet door.

Reason #2: Clowns scare her but I don't.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the amazing reviews. Keep them coming! Sorry for the wait, but I hope this chapter makes up for it. Again, follow me on tumblr. I'm more than willing to answer questions :) Special thanks to my beta for making me flesh out the story!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three – I Kissed Her First<strong>

_Thursday_

"Mija, your father can't make it this weekend. Emergency surgery up in Cleveland," her mother gushed. It was painfully obvious how much she valued her father's work. She relished in the idea of being able to flaunt his career in any conversation. It didn't matter the audience. His job was a status. One her mother never wanted to live without.

"So does that mean we're not going? Cause just the two of us…"

"Oh no honey. Since the Raezers' are going to be joining us this year, I figured you could invite a friend. I know how much the idea of adult conversations bore you. Even though I've been telling you for months now about the importance of accustoming yourself to the wisdom of your elders."

Santana couldn't help but inwardly scoff. Maybe her and Mrs. Raezer enjoyed the occasional conversation about the difference between spirituality and applied faith. Or how the neighborhood was better back in '92, before the slums from the trailer park across the railroad tracks had invaded. The way they chose to _decorate _their lawns and their choice of vehicles parked on the street. Or even the few conversations about how the influence of media was stronger than politics on today's youth. Santana didn't consider this wisdom. It was more like two women, who considered themselves some type of societal elite, gossiping.

"Maybe you can invite Brittany. Or Quinn. I haven't seen her around in a while." Her mother continued without a breath. "Ever since she got pregnant you haven't talked about her much. The three of you used to be joined at the hip. I was shocked like you, but you can't blame her for her choices. You have to hate the sin honey, not the sinner. Growing up with a single, teenaged mom is no way for a baby to be brought up. It's good to hear she has returned to the Church. I remember talking to Judy a few months after the birth. We were both happy to see she had repented for her sins."

Santana turned her head to hide her annoyance. Her eyes rolled from corner to corner before falling to the ground. Mrs. Lopez seemed to forget quite easily that she was only eighteen when she had had Santana. But Santana knew _teenage mother_ wasn't the issue, the single part was. A life that didn't follow the one outlined in the Bible wasn't a worthy lifestyle.

But Mrs. Lopez was a believer in repentance and forgiveness. The fact that Quinn had admitted her faults was enough of a reason for her life to be deemed appropriate again. Sins were just phases and mistakes needing to be fixed. And Quinn had done that.

But Quinn Fabray was no fucking saint. Maybe she had stopped popping out kids, but it wasn't like she was attending church more than Santana was. Santana was pretty sure cheating was on the list of wrongs. Was it Quinn's wholesomeness that masked her extreme emotions? The image of a very bipolar Quinn in the hotel room in New York flashed through Santana's mind. Her rage at Rachel and Finn had faded quickly to the excitement of a new haircut. It was both shocking and fascinating to Santana, the way Quinn's emotions went from intense highs to intense lows so fluidly. As if Quinn was on some perpetual rollercoaster in which she had no control.

The idea of an unstable Quinn on vacation with her mother and Mrs. Raezer intrigued her completely. She could already see her mother's nostrils flare in surprise at Quinn's offhanded comments about the revolution of underground music. Santana was pretty sure her mother's heart would stop beating if she knew about Lucy. And the way she was always talking about Rachel would definitely be shocking to even those who didn't know the midget. But spending an entire weekend with just Quinn didn't exactly appeal to Santana. "I think they both should come."

Mrs. Lopez was a little startled by the blunt form of her daughter's request. Her eyes narrowed slightly at Santana's daring demand instead of asking permission. Her lips pressed together slightly to lower her tone. "Sure dear." She turned on the heels of her Jimmy Choos and Santana listened as they began to clop on the wood of the living room floor downstairs. The weight behind each step reminded Santana of the way a horse walks, and it never failed to warn Santana of her approaching. It saved her mother plenty of heart attacks from witnessing Santana in many compromising situations. There wasn't really a way to explain Brittany straddling Santana at her desk as some form of studying.

Lying on her bed, she turned to recline on her back. Staring up at the ceiling, she reached blindly in the direction of her phone. Santana scrolled through her contacts before typing out a message.

_Lake house this weeknd. U dont have a choice. I will not spend 3 days alone w/ Ursula n co. B ready to go friday morning at 8. _

The phone vibrated seconds later with two very different responses that meant the same thing.

_Im prety sure ursula livs n th ocean not th lake san. _

_I don't know why I have to be your scapegoat for boredom. _

* * *

><p><em>Friday<em>

The horn honked for a third time, piercing the ghostly silence Brittany's neighborhood offered at eight in the morning. Her mother's finger drummed the steering wheel as her impatience grew. Santana counted the beat; tap, tap-tap, tap, tap, as the tempo increased with each passing second. "Santana," she muttered without turning her head.

Santana knew the meaning. She quickly fumbled with the buckle of her seatbelt. She jarred the door open and hastily removed herself from the SUV. Trotting across the lawn, Santana almost tripped her way up the porch steps. Colliding with the front door, she pushed it open knowing Britt's parents weren't home.

The sound of morning cartoons filled the house. The whistle of Wiley Coyote as he fell through the air. Immediately followed by the faint thump of him hitting the ground. Soft giggles emanated from the nine-year-old watching intently. She slurped Cheerios from a bowl on the coffee table.

"Hey munchkin. Where's your sister?"

"S'tana!" She squealed, her mouth full of milk and chewed cereal. Bits of food sprayed from the corners of her mouth. She jumped from her spot on the couch and ran toward Santana. Little hands wound their way around Santana's waist as her head rested flat against Santana's stomach.

"Mackenzie!" Santana returned with matched enthusiasm, ruffling her thin, blonde hair.

Mackenzie's attention lasted a few more seconds before the sound of Road Runner on the TV intrigued her once more. Tiny, socked feet padded across the floor and the couch squeaked as the munchkin returned to her position.

Santana watched with contentment, the muscles in her cheeks relaxing as Mackenzie giggled again. The laughter was replaced with the sound of her mother's disapproval, forcing Santana to remember her mission. Her legs stormed through the hall leading to Brittany's room. The room was completely dark, the only sound coming from an obviously sleeping Brittany. Santana would have thought her soft snoring was cute if it wasn't for the fact that she should have been packed and in her mother's car fifteen minutes ago. Santana groaned as her feet stomped toward the unconscious lump in the middle of Brittany's bed.

"Brittany you better not be sleeping. My mom is going to kill you. And me." Santana shouted, nudging Brittany's unmoving side with both of her hands.

Brittany elicited a disapproving whimper as her eyes squeezed tighter together. She rolled to her side and scooted further away from the intruder.

"Brittany I'm serious. Get up!" Santana moved to flick the light on. Brittany threw the covers over her face like she was hiding from a scary movie. As if a murderer would suddenly leave her alone because she chose to hide under blankets. Santana laughed at Brittany's overreaction.

"Five more minutes," Brittany mumbled. Her words heavy with sleep.

"Brittany if you are not up and ready in five minutes I will personally make sure your mother knows about her daughter's escapades in the sewers."

Brittany groaned once more before throwing back the covers. Santana couldn't help but let her hardened exterior fall slightly as she took in Brittany's disheveled appearance. The top of her head looked like it could literally pass for a bird's nest. Strands of blonde stuck to the corners of her mouth where dried drool lingered. Her eyelids seemed too heavy because they remained halfway between opened and closed.

"What?" Brittany asked as she took in the way Santana's eyes roamed over her face. Her voice was heavy with sleep as her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Santana's eyes softened as she smiled. The last of her resolve falling to the floor below. "Why don't you wash your face and hair in the sink while I get your stuff together?"

Brittany nodded as she slowly swung her legs over the edge of her bed and headed toward her bathroom. Her feet shuffled without purpose, while a copious yawn overcame her.

"But Britt please hurry. I wasn't joking about my mom killing us."

"Your mom would never kill me." Brittany smirked over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. Her hands balled to tiny fists as she brought them to her eyes to try and rub the sleep away.

Santana turned to Brittany's closet as she grabbed the orange duffle from the top shelf. She quickly added an array of shorts and shirts, two bikinis, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans for cooler evenings. Opening the top drawer of Brittany's dresser, she added a few bras and panties. Santana couldn't help herself as she added her favorite set of black lace lingerie. The way the bows clung to each of Brittany's hipbones as the rest left nothing to the imagination. Just the thought of having them in Brittany's bag was enough, even if she wouldn't actually be wearing them.

Santana heard the water cut off as she closed the dresser drawer. When she turned to get Brittany's iPod from her nightstand, a blur of blonde hair and light skin caught her eye. Through the crack in the door, Santana watched as Brittany brought the turquoise towel to her wet head. Santana gulped as Brittany's naked torso bent slightly at the hip. Her black tank top and orange night shorts were clumped together at Brittany's feet. Her breasts fell unrestrained from her chest. Brittany brought the towel to her hair again, this time rubbing the material quickly across her scalp. Blonde strands frayed in every direction as the towel soaked up the sink water.

A bead of water dripped from the blonde curls at the nape of Brittany's neck, and Santana watched as it danced its way across Brittany's spine. It slowed at the small of her back, and Santana swallowed in anticipation as the drop made its way over the curve of Brittany's behind.

Santana watched as Brittany's back straightened, wet hair slapping against creamy skin. Heat began to build within Santana as Brittany turned to face her. She watched Brittany bring the towel to her back. Brittany's breasts shook with each stroke of the towel as it moved from one shoulder blade to the next. Santana licked her lips unconsciously, noticing the way Brittany's nipples hardened as they met the coolness of the air-conditioned house. Santana let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned back toward the nightstand to grab the iPod.

Santana missed the knowing smirk that played across Brittany's face. The corners of Brittany's eyes crinkled as her top lip curled upward. Keeping the door cracked was Brittany's way of revenge for Santana's rude awakening.

A few minutes later both girls exited the house with a quick goodbye to Kenzie. Brittany's duffel hung over her shoulder, slapping the side of her thigh with each step. Santana hugged a pillow close to her chest as she carried the stuffed duck Mrs. Pierce had given Brittany when Mackenzie was born in her free hand. The only time Brittany didn't sleep with Mr. Ducky were nights when her and Santana spent the night together. The possibility of that happening this weekend was slim, and Santana didn't want Brittany to have to sleep alone.

Santana took in her mother's annoyed expression through the rear view mirror as she opened the trunk. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were slanted. But as soon as Brittany opened the car door to greet her, her lips curled upward and her annoyance lessened.

"Morning Izzie," Brittany beamed. "Sorry I'm late. I accidentally overslept."

"It's fine dear."

Santana's blood boiled to some extent at the way her mother's mood changed. She had been so impatient before, and now it was as if Brittany hadn't been late at all. It was frustrating the way Brittany could do no wrong in her mother's eyes. Brittany was right, Mrs. Lopez would never kill her, or blame her for that matter. If prompted, she would probably blame Santana for the reason Brittany was late in the first place.

Santana climbed back into the passenger seat and Brittany slid into the back seat. Mrs. Lopez pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of Quinn's house.

"Does your mom allow Kenzie to stay at home by herself?" Santana queried from the front seat.

"Mrs. Brody picks her up at nine and she spends the day with Wes."

Santana nodded even though she knew Brittany couldn't see her. They drove to Quinn's in relative silence until Mrs. Lopez asked about Brittany's family and eventually trickled across the subject of Artie.

"Mom I told you, they broke up," Santana whined, clearly agitated by her mother's forgetfulness. She had told her mother the day it happened because Santana couldn't believe that it was actually true. She also figured it would spare Brittany the chore of having to do it.

"I know honey. I simply wanted to know how Brittany is doing."

"She's fine," Santana shot back. Her eyes snapped to her mother briefly before turning back out the window.

"I think Brittany is quite capable of speaking for herself." The tone in her voice was low, a signal of warning for Santana.

Brittany's lips curled and her eyes dropped to her lap. She couldn't help but smile at Santana's attempt to end the subject. "I'm fine Izzie. I've moved on," Brittany stated simply.

"That's great dear. No offense to that boy, but you can do a lot better."

Brittany stifled a giggle at the way Santana's eyes lowered and a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. Santana's hands fidgeted in front of her, one of her nails picking at a cuticle. She crossed her legs and the tip of her foot began tapping against the dashboard.

"Yeah I know," Brittany responded meekly.

"Hmm I sense a hint of faith. Could it be that you've already found someone else?" Mrs. Lopez inquired.

Brittany shifted as a blush rose to her face. Her arms crossed across her chest, her thumb and forefinger pinching the skin by her elbow. The heel of her foot twitched against the floor mat. She wasn't ashamed of the truth, but this wasn't just about her. "It's complicated."

"I see. Well he better treat you right. That's all that matters." Mrs. Lopez turned her head as the veered the car to the right down a side street.

"Yeah." It was all Brittany could respond with. She reasoned she was doing exactly what Santana wanted; waiting patiently for her to be ready. She had no idea Santana's hands fell limply to her lap. Brittany had no idea that the girl in the front seat was actually disappointed. She had no idea Santana's eyes fell downward as the conversation ended.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Quinn sitting on her front porch, her bag at her feet, as they pulled into the driveway. She knew having her mother annoyed once already was enough for one day.

"What happened to her hair?" Mrs. Lopez remarked as she took in the untamed strands of Quinn's bob. A small smile spread across Santana's face.

* * *

><p>The SUV rolled to a stop. The dust kicked around the car before it settled to the ground. Santana unraveled her legs from beneath her. The underside of her thighs stuck to the leather interior. She bent to retrieve her sandals from the floor, shuffling to put them back on.<p>

The Raezer's mustang was already parked next to the staircase leading up to the cabin's covered porch. Santana hated the way the sun reflected off the stupid red paint. If it weren't for Mrs. Raezer's opinion about teenagers and new sports cars, Santana would have one of her own.

Brittany stretched her arms as she exited the vehicle. Her muscles groaned in annoyance at being cramped for so long. She had been forced to keep her legs glued underneath her to make room for the cooler at her feet. She arched her back, her face lifting toward the sky. The cluster of trees blocked the setting sun from her eyes as she glanced around the Lopez property.

The house rested on a gradual hill, the back dropping to a third level. Hidden from view from surrounding houses by the forest of pine trees. Brittany knew that Mr. Lopez would use them as their Christmas trees, cutting them down with Santana before work around the holidays had taken over. She turned and watched the clearing in front slope to a small path. She remembered the way the trail slithered through the trees before leading to a little, wooden deck. It wasn't visible from where she stood, but she could hear the faint sounds of water lapping at the base of the Lopez boat.

Quinn emerged from the other side of the car, her limbs stretching in gratitude as well. She rumpled her hands through her hair, shaking it free from the constraints of it being pressed against the back of the seat.

As Brittany hefted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, the three of them made their way toward the front stairs. Santana and Quinn struggled to carry the cooler between them while managing their own bags up the stairs. Once up the final step, they placed the cooler by the door where Mrs. Lopez had asked them to put it.

Santana entered the cabin first, the scent of pine and cinnamon hitting her quickly. Her feet stumbled a little underneath her as childhood memories flooded her senses. The memory of her dad's large hands grabbing her by the waist. The way he lifted her in the air, throwing her gently above his head. The way she giggled at his goofy grin when she returned to his awaiting arms.

"You okay?" Brittany whispered behind her. The hotness of her breath against Santana's ear caused an involuntary shiver.

Before Santana could answer, her mother called from the bottom of the stairs. "Honey I figured you could sleep on the couch in the living room. Shirley and Tim have the guest room upstairs. Mason has the guest room next to the kitchen. And I figured Brittany and Quinn could share the room in the back."

Santana nodded in understanding as she turned to show Quinn and Brittany to their room. She opened the door and dropped her stuff on the floor. She immediately noticed the dream catcher her father had given her on the wall. He had bought it on one of his trips to the Midwest. When Mrs. Lopez had wanted to take it down because it looked tacky, Mr. Lopez had reminded her mother it wasn't hanging in the master bedroom.

Brittany and Quinn followed inside, each placing their stuff on one of the two twin beds in the room. Quinn unloaded the last of her luggage before turning and heading to the adjacent bathroom.

Brittany's eyes softened as her lips stretched slightly toward her ears. "I can sleep on the couch if you want. I don't mind. I know how much you hate it."

Santana's gaze briefly traveled to Brittany's enticing lips. The way her top lip thinned as she smiled emphasized the tiny freckle that sat upon it. Thoughts of kissing the brown speck crept into Santana's mind. She blushed knowing the look didn't go unnoticed by Brittany's returning stare. "It's fine Britt."

Embarrassed by being caught, Santana turned to leave. She needed to put her things in the laundry room before her mother asked for help in making dinner. "Hey wait," Brittany muttered, reaching out to graze Santana's forearm. Santana paused in her movements, but kept her gaze toward the door. "I'm sorry about earlier. I did as best I could given the situation. But your mother kept asking questions."

Santana turned, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw. Brittany's hand retreated as she took in the change in Santana's posture.

"Situation?" She hissed, her eyes narrowing almost catlike. "You act like I brought up the fucking conversation Britt. Besides, you can say whatever you want. You don't need my permission."

Brittany's eyes widened at the sudden drop in Santana's tone. She thought she had handled everything correctly. Answered the questions in a way that wouldn't make Santana uncomfortable. And now she was standing here as Santana spat at her with uncalled for anger. It wasn't her fault she had to lie. "Actually I can't Santana."

"Can't what?"

"Say whatever I want. I have to think of you to keep myself from saying something wrong." Brittany's hands clenched into fists at her side before releasing steadily.

"That's not fair. You know I'm not ready." Santana's voice softened slightly as the tension in her jaw slackened.

"I know you're not. That's why I can't say what I want to say." Brittany's tone lowered as the anger drained from her eyes.

"What do you want from me?" Santana's voice was soft, barely audible as the words escaped her mouth. Her lips creased and her shoulders rose to mimic the question in her words.

The vulnerability caught Brittany completely off guard. Her eyes searched Santana's hungrily. Why was Santana picking a fight now? Why was she asking Brittany this when it was painfully obvious? "You," she breathed. "I just want you Santana." Her eyes dropped to the ground before returning to Santana's gaze. "Can we not fight? Please?"

Santana's eyes had glazed over. She shook her head slightly to try and convey that she didn't want to fight. But at the same time she needed Brittany to understand that it just wasn't that simple. Brittany couldn't have her without the world hating her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Quinn had returned whistling the Three's Company theme. Quinn immediately felt the thickness in the air and quickly took in Santana's glossy eyes and Brittany's questioning look. Her tune rapidly faded from her lips and she stopped just inside the doorway. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

Santana's focus remained on Brittany a moment longer before turning toward Quinn. "No. Everything's fine." She mustered up a smile before heading toward the living room with her bags.

Quinn shot Brittany a puzzled look. Brittany simply shrugged in response, now completely unsure of what was acceptable and what wasn't.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday<em>

Santana lied on her back, soaking up the rest of the afternoon sun at the rear of their boat. Mrs. Lopez had let the three of them take the boat out onto the lake as long as Mason could join. Luckily he declined in favor of joining one of the neighbors to play volleyball. Santana had driven them to the middle of the lake before idling the engine.

Brittany and Santana had barely spoken since Quinn had interrupted them yesterday. Every time Quinn had tried to spark conversation, it had failed miserably. She tried asking Brittany about her plans to continue racing, but Brittany replied with an "I don't know" and left it at that. She asked Santana how long her family had owned the lake house but received a shoulder shrug instead of an actual response. It didn't take long for her realize that neither of them felt like speaking, so Quinn joined the silence they had created.

Each of them took up different parts of the boat as they relaxed in silence. Santana enjoyed the quiet of the lake. She wasn't one for nature, mostly due to the swarms of insects that always seemed to find her body delicious. But she enjoyed the lake. The openness of the water. The warmth of the sun. It was comforting to not have to worry; no matter how short the span of time lasted.

"It's getting hot." Quinn whined as she shifted from her back to her stomach. The side of the boat dipped slightly as she changed her position.

"The sun's going down." Santana retorted without opening her eyes.

"Thanks Jeeves for the weather lesson."

"Just trying to help." Santana snickered, moving into a sitting position to look at Quinn. She grabbed the bottle of water lying next to her and uncapped it. Her feet curled underneath her thighs while she took a sip.

Quinn scoffed. "You're so thoughtful."

"It's a gift." Santana shrugged her shoulders as one of the corners of her lips rose into a smirk.

Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but closed them when she felt the boat moving. Her and Santana looked in Brittany's direction at the front of the boat, and found her shuffling to the edge.

"What are you doing Britt?" Quinn asked as Brittany's fingers tugged harshly on the strings of her bikini top, tightening the material to her chest.

"Swimming. All this talk about being hot made me want to cool off." She didn't wait for an answer as she perched on the edge of the boat, bent slightly at the knee, and dove through the air with simplistic grace. If Quinn had tried to move with as little effort as Brittany had done, she was pretty sure she would have looked like a hippo smacking against the water. But Brittany managed to look like a dolphin waltzing through curling waves. The water enveloped her as she pierced its surface. The soft splash forced a few droplets of water to splatter around Quinn and Santana. "I'll see you back at the cabin," she called. They watched as Brittany began swimming toward the shoreline.

"I know Santana." Quinn spoke as her eyes continued to follow Brittany's retreating form.

Confused, Santana tore her gaze from Brittany to look at Quinn. "Is this some kind of riddle? Honestly Q, I think you're actually becoming a little crazy."

"I know about you and Brittany." Her voice was calm as she now turned to look at Santana. She saw Santana's eyes briefly widen before falling back to normal.

"I think cutting your hair might have erased some of your memory blondie. Everyone knows we've hooked up. Brittany blurted it before Sectionals sophomore year." Santana tried to keep her voice as even as possible. She knew Quinn would notice even the tiniest of cracks in her voice. The faltering of one syllable could elude Quinn to the truth.

"Santana I know you love her."

Santana's eyes narrowed. "You don't know shit Fabray." She pinched the inside of her thigh to try and keep herself calm. "Of course I love her, she's my best friend."

"Could you have a normal conversation for once in your life please." Quinn huffed at Santana's attempt to protect herself. "I'm not saying this to make fun of you. I'm just saying, it's pretty obvious."

Santana's hands trembled with uncertainty, as if the possibility of them remaining still would cause her to explode from the inside out. The pit of her stomach was in constant flips as those words repeated themselves in her ears over and over again. _I know._ Two simple words had Santana shaking from her core. It wasn't the _I-know-you're-having-sex-with-a-girl-because-you-like-sex. _It was the _I-know-you're-having-sex-with-a-girl-because-you're-in-love-with-her._

Very different.

She had been careful, or at least she thought she had. Maybe her eyes did linger a little too long on the way Brittany's collar bones framed the curve of her breasts like a classic painting. Or maybe the looks she would give Artie, the way her upper lip slightly snarled, didn't go as unnoticed as she had thought. Maybe it was even the way Brittany could look at her, with pure innocence and beauty, and Santana's resolve at whatever situation they were in crumpled immediately, without a single word uttered between them.

Maybe it was those things that had told Santana's secret. Maybe there was more to it. But Santana didn't want to know the reasons. She didn't want to have a conversation about it at all. She wanted to be back in her room, curled under her covers, and forget the fact that this was just the beginning.

Quinn noticed Santana shaking. "Hey," she said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. You know that right? No one's going to treat you differently just because you love a girl Santana. Some of us will continue to love you and the rest will continue to tolerate you." Quinn offered with a smile.

"I'm not gay." Santana just about shouted. It was a lie and Quinn knew it. "You've fooled around too Quinnie. Just because you're not _that_ into it doesn't mean it didn't happen. What makes you think I'm different than you?"

Quinn had a lot more to say, but she could tell Santana had already removed herself from the conversation. So she bit her tongue and nodded instead.

Santana quickly leapt to her feet to start the engine. Maybe she shouldn't have invited anyone for the weekend after all. This was not the type of vacation she had envisioned.

* * *

><p>That night, Mr. Raezer had built a fire in the stone pit out back. The seven of them lazily sat on the logs surrounding the flames, digesting the shish-ka-bobs his wife and Mrs. Lopez had made. The conversation trickled from Mason's college acceptance letters to Mrs. Raezer's idea of a Christmas cookie exchange this year. Mr. Raezer interjected with random facts about the Phillies and how he expected them to win the World Series this year. Brittany added that he should come on Fondue for Two so she could gain more male viewers.<p>

"Brittany honey, what are your plans for college?" Mrs. Lopez asked before taking a sip from her wine glass.

"Um I applied to NYU and USC. I'm thinking about pursuing the film industry. Maybe documentaries about places. Or animals." Santana took in the way the fire danced within her eyes as they lit up with joy. She had no idea Brittany wanted to do that. She didn't even know Brittany had applied to college already.

"That sounds lovely dear." Mrs. Lopez beamed before turning to Quinn. "What about you Quinn?"

"I either want to teach or do something with fashion. I haven't made up my mind yet," Quinn chuckled. "My mom really wants me to go to this fashion institute in L.A. but I don't know."

"Mason plans on majoring in elementary education," Mrs. Raezer added with a broad smile. Quinn could see the wheels turning as Mrs. Raezer planned out a future she definitely did not want with a kid she barely knew.

"That's cool," she offered instead, taking a sip of her water.

"How bout you kiddo?" Mr. Raezer asked in Santana's direction.

Santana had been staring intensely at the skipping flames of the fire and was a little shocked at the conversation turning to her. "Uh, I haven't really decided what I want to do. I would love to be able to travel…"

"Work doesn't really appeal to Santana," Mrs. Lopez interrupted, causing the other adults to laugh at her words. "She'd like it if we'd continue to provide for her as she does whatever she wants. Wouldn't you honey?" Another round of laugher ensued upon the adults as they sipped from their glasses of wine.

"Mason's brother's the same way. Lucky for us he eventually chose the army, so now they can pay for him." Mr. Raezer replied, smiling at Santana as if she too enjoyed the joke.

Santana narrowed her eyes and smiled briefly, deflecting their humor's sharp nails. Brittany watched as Santana's hand gripped her own thigh tightly. She noticed the minor slump of her shoulders and the way her eyes darted back to the fire.

Conversation continued, but Santana drowned them out. The flames hypnotized her. They were captivating in the way they flickered back and forth, fighting for dominance. She hadn't noticed when the logs around her began to empty as each of them left for bed. She hadn't noticed when Quinn looked at her and then back toward Brittany before deciding to head to bed as well. She was only torn from the fire's spell on her when an envelope was placed in her lap. She looked to its source and found that Brittany had moved to sit next to her. She glanced quickly around the fire pit and that's when she finally noticed that they were alone.

"I wrote this last night." Santana looked from Brittany's eyes to the letter in her lap and back again. "Read it."

Santana's eyes remained focused on Brittany's as she tore the parchment from the envelope. Her gaze lingered a little longer before looking down at the paper within her hands.

_Letter Three._

_Dear Santana,_

_Do you remember the first time we kissed? I'm sure you do, but in case you forgot, I'd like to remind you._

_We were ten, and your dad had built that tree house in your backyard. We were so excited because my sister would always bug us at my house, and your mom didn't like it when we were too loud at yours. Which seemed to be every time we spoke. Maybe she's a mouse San, they have like really good hearing. Lord Tubbington told me he tried to sneak up on a mouse once and it didn't really go according to plan. He wouldn't elaborate. I think it's still a touchy subject for him._

_Anyways, we were so thrilled to have a place of our own. Do you remember how you said we had to have a secret handshake? You told me that anyone who didn't know it wasn't allowed in. It was like a secret club. Our secret club. Do you remember how long it took us to make one? We kept fighting about whose hand should be on top. I wonder if you still know it. The two slaps in the middle before twirling our arms in a giant circle. Then our fists pounded three times before our fingers wiggled together. You would shout like an Indian and I would end up forgetting the final high-five. _

_Do you remember what happened next? You told me we had to be blood sisters in order to keep the secrecy of our club. You told me you saw on TV that we had to cut the palms of our hands and then place them together. You said it would bind us for life. Except after I did it, and you saw all the blood, you couldn't go through with it. I tried to tell you it didn't hurt, but you were scared that I had cut too deep. However, even though you hated the sight of blood, you didn't hesitate to help clean me up. You were so gentle, the way you ruined your shirt to stop the bleeding. _

_It happened before I knew what was going on. One second you were holding my hand in yours. The next your lips were against mine. It happened so fast I almost thought I'd imagined it. But when I looked at you, and saw the smile on your face and the blush across your cheeks, I knew it was real._

_It was simple. Not complicated. A kiss between friends. But I'll never forget it San. You didn't hesitate. You didn't apologize. You didn't regret it. You just simply did it. _

_You may be scared to accept who you are, but you've never been afraid to go after what you want. And when we were ten, you wanted me to be your first kiss. And so I was. And you were mine._

_Reason #3: You kissed me first. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce._

Santana returned the letter to the envelope before setting it down next to her. Brittany watched intently as Santana's eyes turned back to the dwindling fire. It illuminated the brown specks of her eyes. The flames outlined the dimples in her cheeks as her mouth moved from side to side nervously. Brittany extended a hand toward a stray bang that had fallen across Santana's forehead. Her fingertips brushed across Santana's skin as she tucked it behind her ear.

"San?" Brittany whispered, afraid she had said something wrong.

Santana looked around one more time to make sure nobody was watching before she turned toward Brittany. Her hands grasped the sides of Brittany's face in one fluid motion, pulling their lips flush against one another. They're mouths remained still, pressing desperately for contact. Afraid that the slightest movement would end the kiss entirely.

Moments passed before Brittany's hands rose to tangle in the hair at the back of Santana's head. When the need for oxygen overtook them, their lips parted as Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's. Their eyes remained closed as each took in short breaths to calm their erratic heartbeats.

"I just really needed to do that," Santana breathed.

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

Santana removed her forehead from Brittany's, creating some distance between them so she could look Brittany in the eye. "It wasn't your fault. I started it."

"Why did you start a fight?" Brittany questioned. She took in the way Santana's hands were clasped together in her lap. Brittany reached outward and placed a gentle palm against them.

Santana's eyes darted from Brittany, to her own lap, to the fire, and back again. "Can we just not talk about this tonight? Having a conversation about my feelings once is enough for one day." Santana's gaze fluttered downwards to Brittany's hand in her lap. She unclasped her own hands and laced their fingers together, giving Brittany's hand a pleading squeeze.

"You talked about this with someone else?" Brittany wondered.

"Quinn."

Brittany's eyes widen and she couldn't help the way her heart fluttered with hope. "You talked to Quinn? About us?"

"Not exactly. She kinda already knew I guess. But I freaked out again. I mean Brittany, this is just the beginning. People are gonna continue to find out, and what happens then? What happens when my mom…" Santana rambled, a thickness weighed against her tongue as her eyes welled with tears.

"San it's okay. It's gonna be okay." Brittany soothed. She pulled Santana to her chest as quiet sobs ripped past Santana's lips. "It's gonna be okay."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait. I've been trying to give a new chapter every two weeks, but life kinda got in the way this past week. Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments. Your interest is what keeps me going. Also, I started this story as canon, but considering the new season starts Tuesday, obviously my story now becomes AU since I am not a writer for the show (oh how I wish I were though). Anyways, I will be sticking as close to canon as possible though, so don't think I'm going to throw in aliens or something else equally as unrealistic just because it's now AU, I'm not _that _mean :) As always, thanks to my beta for not only keeping me on track, but pulling my teeth to make sure I write something that's actually worth while.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four - I Need Her, and She Needs Me<strong>

A bead of sweat rolled down the length of Brittany's neck. Santana smiled before leaning down and running her tongue over the spot, relishing in the taste of sweet saltiness. Santana's hands cupped each breast, her tongue continuing to do swirling wonders to the underside of Brittany's jaw. She felt the way Brittany gulped beneath her tongue, forcing a guttural moan to escape her own swollen lips.

Brittany elicited a breathy moan, her head throwing back against the plush rug and making her back arch. "San…" she groaned, running her fingers across Santana's exposed ribs.

"Mmm." Santana ran her tongue from Brittany's throat to her ear, taking the lobe between her teeth. She sucked with quick eagerness before releasing the flesh.

"Please." Brittany panted as dull nails scraped against Santana's naked back. "Stop teasing."

Santana smirked against Brittany's neck, nipping the skin before pressing her lips against the pinked spot. Her lips slid from puffed skin to the smoothness of a shoulder. Her tongue licked at an exposed collarbone, before sucking it with renewed hunger. Swollen lips found their way to an uncovered chest before moving across plump cleavage.

Brittany squirmed as Santana's hands squeezed each breast. Her mouth continued to travel lower, placing chaste kisses with her descent toward Brittany's stomach. Her lips grazed across Brittany's lower abdomen, kissing the dip in her hips. Her tongue licked its way across the skin right above the waistband of pink panties. The skin burned her lips while the fabric cooled it. Brittany's arousal was seeping through each pore. Santana let out a shallow breath, taking the hollow flesh between her lips.

Brittany shuddered, her hips canting upward, desperate for more friction. A shaky moan escaped her lips, the rumbling sound reverberating in the darkened room.

Santana lifted her head as her hands fell to the floor for support. She stretched to look down at the body lying beneath her. Brittany's eyes were squeezed shut, the muscles in her face clenching with anticipation. Blonde hair had fallen across the carpet, splaying in every direction and framing Brittany's face. Pale lips were parted, allowing whispered moans to be released uninhibited. Santana smiled before plunging back down to the awaiting flesh.

Santana awoke with a start, her breaths coming out short and shallow. Her heartbeat pounded rapidly against her ribcage, the mixture of pleasure and confusion settling in her chest. The sun crept through the curtains, stroking her cheeks as she tried to grasp reality. She blinked away the morning sun as she sat up. Her legs swung off the side of the couch, the knit fabric itching the back of her thighs.

She stood to adjust her tank top, pulling the white material over the side of her breast that had been exposed while she slept. She tied her hair in a loose bun on the top of her head, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. The smell of coffee lingered in the air. A strong yet sweet aroma, like the roasted beans were freshly ground pieces of heaven. Santana let out a heavy groan and made her way into the kitchen, choosing to ignore the stickiness that had pooled between her thighs.

The sight of an alert Quinn startled her. Santana shifted in place before deciding to disregard the way Quinn's eyes softened upon seeing her. She made her way to the coffee pot and muttered a faint "good morning".

"Morning." Quinn replied, closing the book in her hands as Santana poured herself a cup of coffee.

Santana stirred in the hazelnut creamer, the sides of the spoon clanking against the mug. Quinn sat at the breakfast table, slurping as she sipped at the hot liquid in her own cup. Santana placed the spoon in the sink before walking to the opposite side of the table. She sat down, picking up the gold and maroon book lying in front of Quinn. She examined the cover before placing it back down upon the wooden table.

"Thought it looked interesting," Quinn offered.

"It's decent." Santana blew on the steamy liquid before bringing it to her lips.

It was as close to an admission of recreational reading Quinn would ever get from Santana. And Quinn couldn't help the way her lips curled as she relished in the fact that she got to know another part of Santana she tried to hide from the rest of the world.

"Is anyone else up?" Santana asked, her mug lowering to the tabletop.

"Your mom and Shirley went on a morning hike. The rest are still sleeping."

Santana nodded as she turned her head in the direction of the room Quinn shared with Brittany. Her eyes skimmed over the rug that had previously supported Brittany's moaning body a few moments ago. A muffled cough fought its way up her throat as she squirmed in her seat.

Quinn followed her gaze before her eyes dropped to stare at the dark liquid in her mug. "Look about yesterday…"

"I'm not ready Q." Santana quickly mumbled.

Quinn couldn't help but wonder if Santana meant the issue at hand or discussing it. She reasoned it was probably both. It wasn't like Quinn didn't understand the desire to hide certain aspects of her life. Before Zizes had revealed her secret, she had done everything in her power to keep Lucy from the vultures of high school. Beth felt like more of a dream than something she had actually gone through, and she was thankful her friends never brought it up. So when Santana looked at her with a pleading look across her lips and a question in her eyes, Quinn knew that all Santana wanted was time. And Quinn could respect that enough to put a smile on her face before taking another sip of her coffee.

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><p>"Hey Britt!" Santana called as she pushed the door to the room open. She came to a complete halt, a silent gasp escaping her mouth. Brittany's hands lifted her t-shirt over her head, exposing her stomach, her abs, and then her chest as she stood in the middle of the room. Santana allowed her eyes to roam, watching the intake of breath that flexed the muscles in Brittany's pale stomach. "I'm sorry. I should have knocked."<p>

Brittany giggled as Santana spoke to her chest instead of her eyes. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but…" Santana stuttered. Since when was she a twelve-year old boy who forgot how to function around a half naked woman? But her dream was still fresh in her mind, and she was unprepared for the way it took control of her thoughts. Images of a writhing Brittany panting her name tickled its way down her spine, interfering with even the simplest of tasks. She had almost dropped her mug in the kitchen when Quinn had asked her how she had slept.

"I missed sharing a bed with you. It was cold. And Quinn snores." Brittany smiled, noticing the way Santana's eyes kept flickering between her own and her chest.

"I'm sure Mr. Ducky kept you warm. If he didn't, I'm gonna have to have a talk with him." Santana let out an uneasy giggle, trying to lighten the mood as her growing desire took over every inch of her body.

"I miss you." Brittany breathed, stepping forward as her shirt dropped to the floor.

Santana's eyes finally met Brittany's. Instead of the normal crystal blue, she saw cloudy gray. And Santana knew exactly what that meant. It wasn't Brittany's need to have something to sleep with. Brittany needed her.

"I'm right here," Santana gulped.

"I miss us," Brittany clarified.

"What about your rules?"

"You talked to Quinn." A sly grin curled its way across Brittany's lips. Her hands reached toward Santana and gripped the hem of her shirt.

"I think I'm still dreaming." Santana muttered as she stood in a disbelieving trance. She didn't put up much of a fight as Brittany pulled her shirt from her lifted arms. Brown waves cascaded back against Santana's caramel shoulders.

Brittany paused, her grin growing into a pleased smirk. "You dream about this? That must be totally awesome. All I dreamt about was this unicorn that told me I should be President. I think he thought I was that Sarah Palin girl because I remember you telling me she wanted to be President so her pet moose could live in the Whitehouse."

A deep blush crept to Santana's cheeks. "I…um…I mean…uh…damn it B."

Brittany giggled, her hands reaching to undo Santana's bra. Her fingers gripped the silky clasp, lifting it from Santana's back before she undid it. She eased the straps off Santana's shoulders as the purple bra dropped next to their feet. Her hands fell to rest and grip Santana's hips.

"Q's in the kitchen," Santana breathed, not that she cared.

"Nothing she hasn't heard before." Brittany's fingers skirted their way from protruding hipbones to exposed ribs in one fluid motion. Santana shuddered as Brittany's fingerprints left brands across her skin.

Brittany bent at the hip as she pulled lightly on Santana's waist. Their lips met with hesitation. Soft. Quiet. The touch felt ghostlike, and Santana wondered if she really _was_ still dreaming. The rest of the cabin was muted, the only sounds reaching Santana's ears were the light sucking of top lip against bottom.

Brittany pressed herself closer against Santana, molding their bodies together. In response, Santana's leg wedged between her knees, and she felt Santana's breasts press against hers. Her lips began to pursue Santana's with hunger, and the moan that Santana let out only drove her further.

Her hands made their way to cup the sides of Santana's face. Brittany used her strength to turn Santana's face in the positions she wanted. A tilt to the side gave her better access to Santana's bottom lip. A dip downward and Brittany could kiss the tip of Santana's nose. She nudged in the direction of the beds, smiling against Santana's top lip as she began to shuffle them in that direction. Tanned calves bumped the side of a mattress, and she fell on her back, Brittany floating after her.

Santana's eyes fluttered open as Brittany tried to readjust their position. Thighs slipped against each other as Brittany scooted them upward. Santana bent her knee, her hands falling to her sides as she watched Brittany's movements. Her shorts rubbed at Brittany's bare stomach as she crawled to lie between Santana's legs.

Brittany recaptured Santana's lips, pulling the bottom one between her teeth. Her tongue flicked against it, and she tasted the hint of coffee that played across Santana's lip. She ground down against Santana, the fabric of their shorts preventing her from feeling what she was desperate to feel.

"Wait," Santana huffed, jerking her lips from Brittany's. Her palms pushed flat against Brittany's collarbone.

Brittany pulled back, her hands moving to rest on either side of Santana's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Can we just, take this slow?" Santana's eyes dropped to Brittany's chest, watching as her breasts heaved with each labored pant she took.

Brittany smiled as she laid back down on Santana, shifting her weight to one arm. She wrapped her fingers around Santana's wrist, gripping her delicate skin. She brought the hand to her lips, watching as Santana's eyes widened. Brittany kept their eyes locked as she kissed each finger at an agonizingly slow pace. "Is that better?" She husked with a wink.

Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She almost lost her ability to answer. The heat of Brittany's mouth against her fingers. The way her lips pressed to the tip of each one. It forced an ache in her lower abdomen that begged to be cured.

"That's not what I meant." Her words shook as Brittany took it upon herself to suck a pointer finger into her mouth. Brittany's lips enclosed around her finger, the moisture and heat sending shivers down Santana's spine. Her tongue danced its way across the length of it and Santana shook with arousal. "Damn B," Santana breathed, her eyes rolling upward before they closed.

Brittany's lips curled into a smile. She enjoyed every second of control she had over Santana's body. She let go of Santana's finger with a wet pop. She returned to hovering over Santana's torso, her hands once again framing Santana's shoulders. She bent down further, leaving a trail of chaste kisses across Santana's jaw line to her ear.

"Is this not what you want?" Her hot breath tickled Santana's ear, forcing another shiver overtake Santana's body.

Santana was losing control with each placement of Brittany's lips against her skin. She needed some distance if they had any chance of having an actual conversation. This time as Santana pushed hard against Brittany's shoulders, she maneuvered herself into a sitting position. She took Brittany's hands in hers, cradling them above Brittany's knobby knees.

"Of course I want this Brittany. I…I just…"

Brittany let go of Santana's gaze, falling to their interlocked fingers. When did they become intertwined? Which one of them had done it? She reasoned that it didn't matter.

"San I want you." She repeated her words from yesterday. "And I meant what I said about waiting for you to be ready, but…"

"But," Santana repeated, her eyes remaining fixed upon Brittany's flittering gaze.

"What if we wait together?" Brittany suggested. Her eyes continued to roam over their locked hands, the way they fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

"I thought you didn't want to be my secret." Santana couldn't hide the fact that her words were hopeful.

"I don't. But I want you more." Brittany's eyes finally lifted to meet Santana's chocolate orbs. A faint smile formed across her lips as she squeezed Santana's hands. "It's like when Mulan chooses to be a dude so she can fight for her country. She'd rather be a girl because duh, females are way better, but she's willing to keep her secret to get what she wants."

"Wait." Santana chuckled, her stomach moving with the sharp exhale. "Are you comparing me to an Asian army?"

Santana's chuckle was infectious, and Brittany couldn't help but giggle as well. Maybe Santana didn't understand what she meant. It's not like Santana actually paid attention during movie nights. Maybe she missed the point of the movie. Like how they only defeat the bad guys after Mulan reveals herself. She opened her mouth to speak when the door to the room flung open.

"Oh my god!" Quinn shrieked, the shrillness echoing in the small room. She stood behind them in the doorway, her hands quickly shooting to cover her eyes.

"People need to learn how to knock," Santana seethed, grabbing a blanket to cover her chest. She wasn't embarrassed. Just a bit pissed that Little Miss Bo Peep had awful timing.

Brittany giggled as she hopped off the bed to grab her shirt. "San you didn't knock…" her words faded as she caught Santana's death glare.

"Don't you guys have any self control?" Quinn huffed. Her eyes remained averted, her quivering lips mimicking the panic her brain was going through. She felt the need to close the door and let them be. She muttered apologies under her breath as she closed the door and stood with her back against it.

"We were just talking," Santana groaned. And when Quinn continued to stand right outside the room, Santana knew she wasn't getting any anytime soon. Her grip tightened on the sheer sheet covering her chest, watching as Brittany pulled her t-shirt over her head.

"Topless? What if I had been your mother?" She called through the crack in the door.

Santana turned so her back was to the door, even though Quinn wasn't looking. One armed remained over her chest as she reached to the floor to grab her bra. She let the sheet stay draped over her naked torso as she slipped the bra into place. Once on, she allowed the covering to fall to the bed as she stood to retrieve her shirt.

"You're just jealous you don't have the confidence to talk without a shirt on," Santana smirked as she put on her shirt. "I wouldn't either if I were you." She snickered, cracking the door open to signal it was safe for the prude to re-enter the room.

She plastered on her own layer of confidence to hide the fact that Quinn's words had hit her hard. She watched Quinn roll her eyes, but all she could think about was her mother seeing what Quinn saw. The thought of her mother walking in to find them like that had Santana shaking. What would she have done? Santana didn't want to think about it. She definitely wouldn't have closed the door and waited for the two of them to get dressed like Quinn had.

"It doesn't take confidence Santana. Not all of us have to use our bodies as forms of manipulation to have actual conversations with people." Quinn wasn't exactly sure where the anger was coming from. Maybe it had something to do with their old way of fighting for the top of the proverbial pyramid.

"Oh really?" Santana crossed her arms over chest, looking Quinn up and down. "Whatever you say _Lucy_," she mocked. "You had to transfer schools to manipulate people into being your friend. It's not like they were lining up at your old school. And the _friends_ you have now are about as fake as your nose."

"We are her friends San." Brittany chimed in, though neither of them acknowledged she had said anything.

Quinn completely ignored Brittany, the anger in her chest boiling. "Says the girl with silicone tomatoes stuffed in her chest. That didn't really help your popularity either," Quinn shot back. "If I'm not your friend, then why were you so desperate to invite me this weekend?"

"That's not true Q. San doesn't have tomatoes in her boobs, that's gross. They totally taste like…" She trailed off, losing her train of thought as she imagined the feel and taste of Santana's breasts in her mouth.

Santana's cheeks turned a deep rose color, but she refused to back down. Her eyes remained locked with Quinn's, as if the first person to look away would be the weakest. She was determined to win, choosing to dig a little deeper at Quinn's insecurities. Fighting as if the prize was a dinner to Breadstix and not just another comment about being the biggest bitch.

"You do realize that every guy you've dated has come to me for sex right? I mean it's obvious they were bored with the kindergarten routine you were sporting." Santana's lips were pressed tightly as the words hissed from her mouth. Maybe saying that she had slept with Quinn's rejects wasn't exactly the way to stand up for herself, but she knew the words would hurt Quinn. They would settle between the parts of Quinn's mind that still felt like the fat loser nobody liked in middle school.

The shock of Santana's words knocked the wind out of Quinn. She blinked at Santana, her mouth parted with the unasked question of _why?_ She wanted to cry, but she didn't want to give Santana the satisfaction. So Quinn stood, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. Her nails dug into the skin below her elbow, keeping her from shaking with hurt and rage.

"Oh ladies, there you are," Mrs. Lopez interrupted. She appeared in the doorway quickly, without either girl hearing her approaching. "I need your help with something." Her head was in and out of the room before either of them could blink.

Neither Quinn nor Santana apologized, but the verbal exchange was dropped with Santana's mother's retreating body. Quinn turned on her heals to follow Mrs. Lopez, her eyes glancing over Santana one more time before she exited. Santana sighed, ashamed and proud at the same time. She was only defending herself, but she knew that as soon as she said it, she had taken it too far. Brittany approached her from behind, lightly grazing her elbow before following Quinn out of the room. Santana stood a few seconds longer, choosing to drop the conversation like it never happened, and walked towards the door.

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><p>After helping her mother weed the garden for the past three hours, Santana decided an afternoon nap was more than necessary. Not wanting to waste their last day at the lake, she politely demanded they spend the rest of the day on the boat until dinner. As soon as Santana had relaxed against the back of the boat, the warm sun kissing her skin, the intoxicating lapping of the water against the sides, she had drifted into a state of semi-unconsciousness.<p>

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the sun had faded a little. Goosebumps had begun to rise over her skin as the cool air from the water hit her without the shield of the sun's rays. She began to open her eyes to protest the lack of daylight when she heard her name muffled between Quinn and Brittany. She quickly closed them as Brittany continued to speak from across the boat.

"She didn't mean it Quinn. She just has a lot going on." Brittany fumbled with the strings of her suit at her hips, running the material through her fingers while her eyes gazed toward the sleeping brunette at the back of the boat. Her and Quinn were lying on their backs at the front of the boat, Brittany growing impatient at their lack of activity as Quinn kept her attention on the book in front of her.

"Don't you ever get tired of defending her?" Quinn asked, glancing up from her book to look at Brittany. Quinn's voice wasn't as angry as her words suggested. It was hushed, and sounded defeated.

Santana couldn't help the flinch that coursed through her. Besides Brittany, Quinn had been her friend longer than anyone else. And it sounded as if Santana had taken every ounce of confidence Quinn had mustered since Beth and burned it. It also never occurred to her that Brittany would apologize on her behalf. Did she do that often? After every time Santana bitched someone out?

"Not really," Brittany replied as her shoulders shrugged. "She stands up for me when people call me stupid so why shouldn't I stand up for her?"

"It's not really the same thing Britt." Quinn saw the confused look on Brittany's face as her eyebrows scrunched together to form wrinkles on her forehead. "Never mind."

Santana remained still as her two friends sat in silence for a few minutes. She wanted to look and see what they were doing, but she didn't want to be caught eavesdropping. She hoped they would continue, both eager and afraid of what they had to say.

"I know she talked to you Quinn. She told me." Brittany shifted to her side, propping her head on her bent arm. Quinn continued to lie flat on her back, but turned her head in Brittany's direction.

"I wouldn't say we talked. She knows I know. That's enough for the both of us." Quinn sighed, the tone in her voice low and devoid of emotion as she turned back to her book.

"She needs you. She'll never admit it, but she does."

Santana listened as Brittany's voice lowered. Her heart broke because of it. She wasn't sure if she was more upset for Brittany talking to Quinn about her or for the fact that everything she was saying was true.

"Yeah, well." Quinn turned toward Santana before she noticed that it was starting to get a little dark. The conversation was pointless, leading nowhere but a dead end. She knew Santana needed someone to talk to. What she was going through would be hard on anyone, and even harder to keep to herself. But talking to Santana was like pulling teeth. You either got an excited child who looked forward to their gift from the tooth fairy. Or you had a screaming toddler on your hands, who wailed and blamed someone else for their turmoil. "We should probably wake her up so we can get back."

Brittany nodded and stood. The boat dipped with her movements as she walked toward Santana. She watched the rise and fall of Santana's chest, the way the setting sun cast an orange glow upon her tanned skin. She knelt down beside Santana and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "Rise and shine sleepy beauty," she whispered into the shell of Santana's ear. Santana couldn't help the goofy grin that played upon her lips.

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><p>"Did you hear about father Herr?" Mrs. Raezer asked, sipping on the cocktail that Mrs. Lopez had prepared. "Lindsay Moyer was bringing over some apple pie and she saw through the curtains, him and Mr. Plourde kissing."<p>

"No," Mrs. Lopez gasped.

"I kid you not. She said she dropped the pie on the front porch and ran all the way to father Gress' house."

"What happened?" Mrs. Lopez's eyes widened as she leaned forward in her chair to give Shirley all her attention.

"He was asked to leave the church. I mean we can't have someone like that leading the congregation every week."

"What do you mean?" Quinn chimed in.

The fire provided the only source of light as they sat around it. As it flickered, it cast shadows of light upon each of their faces. While they strained to look in Quinn's direction, Santana was glad they couldn't see the expression on her face. She felt uneasy, and she was sure her facial features weren't hiding her feelings very well.

"Honey we don't want his kind preaching to our kids." Shirley stated, and Mrs. Lopez shook her head in agreement.

"It's not like being gay is contagious. Kurt's gay, but I'm not. And I was around him everyday in glee," Quinn politely argued. Santana snickered, thankful that Quinn's outbursts were finally making an appearance on this weekend from hell.

Mrs. Lopez looked at Santana as if this new piece of information had burned her ears.

"I've witnessed first hand what hateful people can do. Kurt was bullied from our school…" Quinn continued.

"While I don't agree with the bullying method, that boy seemed to get what he was asking for." Shirley nodded, her head dipping below the light of the flames that danced upon her face. Her eyes flickered a bright red color before she brought her head back up.

"Are you serious right now?" Quinn scoffed. Santana smirked at the way her mother's eyes bulged from their sockets. The irritation her mother had to be feeling right now brought a little enjoyment to Santana. Her mother was definitely not used to people talking back to her, especially seventeen year olds. "You think people ask to be teased and bullied simply because they happen to love someone of the same sex?"

"They're choosing to live in sin." Shirley smiled politely. She remained stoic on the outside, but she was growing annoyed with every excuse Quinn spoke.

"They didn't choose anything. It's who they are." Quinn's voice reached a level close to yelling, and as the light flickered to her face, her reddened cheeks signaled she was getting heated over the conversation.

Santana had never been more proud of Quinn. Eight hours ago she had violated Quinn's insecurities by throwing them in her face. And now, Quinn was sitting in a circle defending Santana's. To people she barely knew. Even if the rest of the group had no idea of Quinn's double meaning, Santana understood it.

"Quinn, dear, calm down. I know you've had a rough year or two so obviously you're gonna feel sympathetic toward those…" Mrs. Lopez cut in, trying to understand why such a young girl would be so passionate to argue with adults.

"This has nothing to do with me having a baby Mrs. Lopez. Some of my friends are gay, and I still love them. And I'm not gonna sit here and let this woman say it's okay for them to be bullied just because she has a picket sign shoved up her ass."

Unified gasps were heard over the crackling fire. The group descended into an awkward silence. Santana knew Quinn had overstepped her boundaries. She was thankful, yes, because this was exactly the reason she had brought her in the first place. But this conversation wasn't going to end well. She knew how Mrs. Raezer felt about gays. She often overheard her and her mother talking in the kitchen while she sat at the top of the stairs. She just hoped someone else would change the topic before it got any worse…like Mrs. Raezer hurdling the fire to teach an outspoken Quinn a thing or two about respecting her elders.

"I just like people. Guys are great. But so are girls." Brittany spoke, her eyes roaming from one person to the next as if her answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

Santana cringed. This was definitely not going to end well. "Britt," she whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

"Brittany honey, we're not talking about friends," Mrs. Lopez grinned.

"I know Izzie. We're talking about sex right?"

Mrs. Lopez's eyes continued to widen, and all Santana wanted to do was defend Brittany. As if Brittany were about to be thrown into a shark tank, and all Santana wanted to do was use her body as a lid to cover it up. She wanted to save her from the look plastered on her mother's face. She knew what it meant. It was the look of complete disagreement and utter disappointment. And she could handle it. She was used to it. But Brittany should never have that look aimed in her direction. Brittany was the only person sitting around that damn fire who lived her life the way she wanted. Without fear. Without regrets. And she should never be ridiculed for that.

Her mother chose not to reply. The muscles in her face tensed as if she were chewing over the words Brittany had spoken. Quinn's eyes shifted to the fire. She felt she had done enough. Brittany watched Mrs. Lopez, waiting for her to respond in agreement. No one said anything for a while until Mr. Raezer brought up the upcoming holiday.

But Santana wasn't listening. It felt like someone had their hand clenched around her lungs, making each breath a labor she couldn't handle. When her hands and feet began to shake, her mother looked over and saw that her face had grown pale. The natural color in her cheeks had faded, and she looked like she was going to be sick.

"Honey, are you okay?"

Brittany glanced at her and immediately knew what was happening. The summer before their junior year, she had witnessed her best friend crumble in the same manner. Her limbs had shaken without any control. Her color had drained to resemble the whites of her eyes. Brittany had been horrified watching, unable to do anything. She had been hyperventilating at her mother's words to better herself. Once she had calmed down, she had told Brittany about the way her mother made comments about her boy hips and flat chest. Brittany though it was ridiculous, but weeks later Santana had shown up at her house with bigger boobs. And Santana acted as if her panic attack had never occurred.

"San," she breathed, reaching her hand toward Santana's trembling arm.

Santana retreated out of instinct. "I'm fine." She choked on her words, the effort to speak making it more difficult to breathe.

Brittany could tell she was lying, and grabbed her wrists. She pulled a shaking Santana from her chair and guided her over the dirt path that led to the dock. The others watched over their shoulders, Quinn muttering that maybe she should check to see if Santana was alright. But Mrs. Lopez argued that sometimes Santana acted dramatic when she wanted attention, and she turned back to talk to Shirley.

Brittany positioned herself in front of Santana, their hands clasped together between them. "Breathe with me," Brittany coaxed. She puffed her chest as she inhaled sharply, letting the air sit in her lungs before she counted to ten and released it. Santana watched her repeat the action, and little by little tried to match her breathing with Brittany's.

Brittany's fingers began to rub soothing circles over the back of Santana's hands, the shaking softening with each breath Santana took. She kept her eyes anchored to Brittany's, the blue illuminated from the moon's reflection on the water.

The clenching in Santana's throat lessened, and she coughed over the dryness of it. "Thanks," she muttered, her lips curling with a faint glimpse of a smile.

"Are you okay?" Brittany's fingers continued to soothe Santana's nerves. Her eyes sought the brown ones staring back at her, and she hung on for dear life.

"Uh, yeah." Santana lowered her gaze to Brittany's moving fingers. She concentrated on the way Brittany's calm demeanor shot through the girl's fingertips and into her own pulsing hands. With each stroke a wave of electric tranquility ran through Santana's veins, diminishing the last tremors from her body.

"Was it something I said?"

"No." Santana half-lied. Brittany hadn't said anything wrong, but what she had said could make her mother wonder who Brittany was talking about. Santana returned her gaze to Brittany, and ocean blue watched the next wave of panic wash over brown eyes. "B she's never gonna be okay with this. With who I am. Don't you see that?"

Brittany shuffled her feet, her grip on Santana's hands tightening. "You never know. She could come around."

"When have you ever known my mother to come around to anything?" Santana huffed, releasing a ball of air that had lodged in her throat.

"Maybe it'll be different because it's you." Brittany offered, her eyes softening and her lips curling.

She was so innocent, unaware that what Kurt went through would very easily happen to them. Probably more since they were supposed to be the popular girls. But Brittany believed that since she loved everyone, they would always love her. Santana refused to take that hope from her. She refused to rob Brittany of her innocence and genuine love for mankind. She simply refused.

"Maybe," she uttered in defeat, even though she knew it wasn't true. She'd rather lie then watch the hope in Brittany's eyes fade away.

Brittany pulled her into a tight embrace, her arms sliding over the small of Santana's back. "I love you," she whispered into the crook of Santana's neck.

"Yeah. Me too." Santana replied, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block out everything else.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Lopez dropped Brittany off last. Blonde hair bounced as she hopped up the front steps and waved goodbye one more time. Santana waved as they pulled out of the driveway.<p>

"Well that was an interesting weekend," her mother began.

"Yeah. One for the scrapbooks," Santana mocked. She turned her head to stare at the passing houses through her window.

"Watch your tone. You're starting to sound like Quinn." Mrs. Lopez snapped.

Santana smirked at the comparison.

"And I didn't know Brittany was so…experimental." Her mother now spoke hesitantly. Her voice dignified, but soft.

Santana's throat closed. Here it was, the discussion she knew would happen since Brittany had spoken last night. But Santana chose to use this as a way to test her mother. Because let's face it, she loved Brittany almost, if not more than her own daughter.

"Does that change how you feel about her?" Santana mused. Her head turned briefly toward her mother before staring back out the passenger window, as if the answer wasn't important.

"I'd be lying if I said I liked it. But since she's not my daughter, there's nothing I can do about it."

Santana slumped in her seat as if she had just been removed of all her bones.

So her mother didn't hate Brittany. But she would certainly hate her own daughter. Santana felt like vomiting, and she had to pinch her lips together tightly in order to keep the bile in her stomach from spewing across the dashboard.

"So tell me, does this glee club promote homosexuality. Cause if it does, I might have to rethink your involvement. I don't want my daughter prancing around…"

"Mother, you sound like the followers of that cult church in Kansas." Santana huffed, the anger in her stomach boiling.

"Don't you dare compare me to those hateful people. I would never riot at someone's funeral. Honestly Santana, what has gotten into you?"

Santana closed her mouth and turned her head once more. There was no point in arguing if she wasn't willing to reveal herself.

As soon as they pulled into their garage, Santana grabbed her bag and ran upstairs to her room. She ignored her mother's calling about helping to unpack the car and slammed her bedroom door shut.

Her bag dropped to the floor by her desk, and she reached in her purse for her phone. She felt paper against her fingers, and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. She walked to her bed and plopped down on her stomach, unfolding the paper as she walked. When she saw Brittany's handwriting, her heart leapt with joy. When did she write this? When had she put it in her purse?

_Letter Four. _

_Dear Santana, _

_I'm currently sitting next to Quinn as you sit in the front seat. She's reading her book. Doesn't she ever get tired of reading? I wanted to write this now so you would find it when you got home. I had a really good time this weekend, thank you for bringing me. I'm sorry I made you upset that one day. And I'm sorry we never got to finish our sexy times. Oh, and I'm also sorry you think your mom won't accept you. But I think you're wrong. I think she'll love you no matter what. Besides, even if she doesn't accept you right away, Quinn could substitute because she's had mom practice. And she already accepts you._

_So where was I on our trip down memory lane? (Doesn't that sound like a game? Like Candy Land? There should totally be a board game called Memory Lane. Like someone describes a memory, and then asks the others questions about it. And you can only move forward if you get it right. Bonus points if you act the memory out. It'd be like a mixture of that hard trivia game Rachel always wants to play and charades.) Right, our first kiss. Well that means we are now in middle school. The summer before seventh grade. We were twelve. I had those awesome braces, and you had that crazy afro hair which your mom constantly tried to put in braids. When your hair wasn't braided, I always thought you looked like Michael Jackson before he turned white._

_It was our first party. I think it was at Puck's house, or maybe it was Matt's. I don't remember. We had a lot of alcohol that night. I remember when I first tried it. I wanted to spit it out. But you told me to just hold my nose and swallow quickly. We danced and drank and danced some more, which was my favorite part. I remember being so excited to dance. Those upperclassmen were there, and that one guy with that ugly scar kept giving you drinks. I remember you disappearing for a while, and when you came back you said it was time to leave. _

_Do you remember what happened that night San? We slept at your house. We were lying in your bed and you reached over and kissed me. But this one was different. Your tongue was in my mouth and your hands were on my hips. You kept whispering that you wanted me to be your first. And I didn't understand because I was already your first kiss. But we continued making out until I felt something damp. I looked down at your shorts and noticed the red stain. You were so embarrassed that you had gotten your period. _

_But what I remember most about that night was the way you had clung to me. The way your hands had sought my body for the first time. The way your fingers tickled over my hips and back. That was something new, and something I wouldn't understand for a few years. But I understand now._

_You needed me Santana. You needed me in a way that we had never needed each other before that night. _

_You need me._

_And I need you._

_We didn't have sex that night (that comes later on our trip. Oh maybe instead of a game it should be a theme park ride. Like those rides at Disney where they tell a story as you move through it. Splash Mountain's my favorite. Where that rabbit tells his story about that mean old bear and fox. But we won't have any mean characters in our ride). But that night was the first night we needed each other. I helped you because you were scared about your period and I had already had mine. I made you cocoa and told you to sleep with a heating pad on your tummy. And you helped me with my hangover the next morning. You gave me a glass of water and told me to take some Tylenol. _

_That was the night you became my best friend. Yes we were already close. Yes we already did everything together. But this was different. _

_Because I knew that no matter what happened, you were always going to be there for me. And I was always going to be there for you. _

_Reason #4: You need me, and I need you. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce._

Drops of water had fallen upon the paper, smearing some of the letters written. The _s_'s now looked like _a_'s, while some words became unrecognizable. Santana hadn't even noticed she was crying. How could she forget this? How could she forget that the night Brittany considered them becoming best friends, was the same night she had first lied to Brittany.

The bile that had been churning in her stomach since the car ride home boiled to a new level. Santana dropped the letter on her bed before she ran to her bathroom and vomited. With every cough and heave of her chest, she thought about that night that she had forgotten. She thought about Brittany and how she had taken care of her when she had immense pain in her lower abdomen. Most of all, she thought about the way she desperately needed Brittany. She needed her then, and she needed her now.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So since the last chapter was full of angst and drama, and was almost three weeks ago, I'm giving you a chapter with very little angst and about 12,500 words in length (so that makes up for the wait, right?) Anyways, thank you for all your kind words and questions. I promise everything will be answered eventually! Also, there is a Buffy/Faith reference, so kudos to those who find it, because in my head canon Santana definitely owns all the seasons of Buffy! Thanks to my beta who keeps pulling for quality! Also, song at the end is Blower's Daughter by Scala (look them up, they're amazing).

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><p><strong>Chapter Five - I Fall Asleep In Her Arms<strong>

Santana pulled a purple dress into place, the snug fabric clinging to the parts of her body that she wanted to highlight. It never hurt to accentuate her well-paid-for chest and her god-given ass. Especially when a certain blonde's eyes always seemed to travel to those areas. She ran her hands through her hair, her loose curls falling over her shoulders and around her face.

Brittany told her once that she liked her hair better curled than straight, and Santana couldn't help but smile at her flawless curls before turning toward her closet. She grabbed a pair of black boots and made her way to her bed. Sitting down on the edge, the mattress dipping beneath her, she began to pull one of the boots on when she heard a faint knocking at her door.

"Hey you," Brittany smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

Santana paused, her hand mid-calf, as she looked Brittany up and down. Cut off jean shorts barely covered her ass, not leaving much to the imagination. The first time Santana had seen those shorts was during a Cheerio-sponsored car wash, and Santana's bikini top was not the only thing that had gotten wet that day. When she joked with Brittany about not owning a pair of shorts longer than her underwear, Brittany had simply said that her sister had outgrown them and she didn't want them getting upset by not being worn anymore.

Her eyes continued to travel upward, and Santana could clearly see the pink polka-dotted bra she was wearing through the sheer shirt. It was the same one she had worn the night they did body shots in Rachel's basement. Santana licked her lips at the memory of Brittany's salted skin.

"Need some help?" Brittany inquired, eyeing the boot that hung half way off Santana's leg. The intrusion brought Santana from her memory.

What?" Santana questioned. She followed Brittany's gaze to her boot and shook her head. "Oh, nah I got it." Santana's hands tugged the boot in place, it stopping short just below her knee. She grabbed the other one and pulled it on. She stood up, smoothing the dress down over her thighs.

"You look," Brittany began before stepping toward Santana. Her eyes fluttered to Santana's chest. She watched the rise and fall of the curve of cleavage visible above the neckline of the dress. Her eyes narrowed in hunger, the desire to reach out and run a finger across the flesh was overtaking her.

Santana blushed as she watched Brittany's eyes grow dark with lust. She hadn't realized Brittany would want to devour her as soon as she saw her. The thought caused her to cross her arms over her chest, hoping the obstacle would bring Brittany back to reality, and the fact that they currently did not have the house to themselves.

"Hey, don't cover them up." Brittany scolded, reaching to unravel Santana's clasped hands. Brittany's fingers brushed across the sides of Santana's breasts causing her to squirm at the touch. Brittany smiled as her fingers skirted over Santana's ribs, making the smaller girl take in a sharp inhale. Brittany watched as Santana's eyes followed her fingers before they came to rest, lingering on Santana's hips.

Santana eyed her warily. "My mom's downstairs," she breathed, even though she leaned further into the touch.

Santana knew once Brittany got in one of her moods, it was hard turning her off. It brought her back to the time they were sitting at the back of the Cheerios' bus on their way home from Nationals. They were on a winning high, and Brittany's fingers were glued to Santana's skin from the moment Santana had jumped into her arms on stage. By the time they made it on the bus, Brittany's mind had met the gutter, and it didn't take long for her fingers to find themselves under the flaps of Santana's skirt and into her spanks.

"Never stopped us before." Brittany's lips curled, her hands moving to the small of Santana's back. "Besides, we always hear her coming." She whispered before pressing her lips against Santana's. Brittany's fingertips rubbed over the thin material covering Santana's back.

Santana's growing desire to throw Brittany on the bed fought with her mind and the fact that her mother was downstairs. When Brittany's tongue flicked across Santana's lower lip, she forced herself to pull away.

"We're going to be late," Santana eyed the open doorway to make sure her mom hadn't appeared there. There were a few post-sex showers sophomore year, where they had just managed to put on pajamas before her mother had appeared in the doorway unannounced.

"You always told me it was un-cool to show up to a party on time." Brittany muttered, pushing Santana back towards her bed. The action took Santana completely off-guard, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. But she couldn't ignore the flutter in her lower abdomen at Brittany's dominance. When Brittany chose to take control, it never failed to make Santana's ovaries explode. When her calves hit the base of the bed, she fell back until her shoulder blades hit her sheets. Brittany giggled as she watched the smile grow on Santana's face. It was pure and unforced, the smile Santana only wore during moments of unbridled passion. Even when Santana closed her eyes as she came undone, Brittany always watched as her face softened in complete satisfaction.

That smile also appeared during glee club, but Brittany knew Santana would deny that.

Brittany looked down to see Santana's dress had bunched at the top of her thighs. It revealed the freckle directly below the crease of her right hip. Kissing that spot always tickled Santana, which only drove Brittany to want to kiss it more. Brittany began to walk toward the bed, the desire to straddle Santana's hips fresh in her mind. She couldn't wait to feel Santana's thighs beneath her own. Maybe she could touch Santana quickly before Mrs. Lopez would have time to come up to the room. She could tell by the way Santana was looking at her that it wouldn't take long anyways. Just as she was about to climb on top of Santana's lap, Mrs. Lopez called from the hallway.

"Hey girls…" she stopped in the doorway, eyeing the two girls' position. Brittany had tried to move away from the bed, but didn't get very far. Santana had managed to sit up, but her dress had bunched further due to the quick movement.

"Yeah mom?" Santana questioned, trying to take her mom's attention off of the fact that she had almost walked in on Brittany topping her daughter.

"Just wanted to know if you'd be joining us for dinner. Your father will be home soon." Her mother's eyes remained fixed on Santana and the way her daughter seemed flustered at her sudden appearance.

"Oh. Actually Puck is having a barbeque and invited everyone from glee to celebrate the Fourth."

Her mother's eyes roamed toward Brittany, whose hands played with the hem of her shirt. Brittany looked up and smiled at Mrs. Lopez, dropping her shirt from between her fingers. Mrs. Lopez returned the smile before shifting her gaze back to Santana. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that club…"

Santana stood, pulling her dress back into place. "Can we talk about it later? We're already running late." Her tone was soft but firm, like she already knew what her mother had to say. She didn't wait for an answer as she moved to her desk to grab her purse and phone, hoping her actions would bring the conversation to an end by default.

Her mother smiled, but the glint in her eyes contradicted the action. "Okay, don't be too late."

"Actually I was going to spend the night at Brittany's. Her parents invited me to go to Cedar Point with them tomorrow."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides your father has tomorrow off and we were thinking of taking you shopping for the new school year." Her hand rose to her hip as it cocked to the side. She knew Santana would never refuse the idea of getting new clothes.

"Oh," Santana shifted her weight, her eyes flashing to Brittany before dropping to the ground. Her mother was bribing her, and she felt helpless as she agreed to it. "Okay."

Her mother's smile grew, the whites of her teeth peeking through barely parted lips. "Excellent. Have a good evening then."

"Thanks Izzie," Brittany beamed. She had regained her composure at the end of the conversation, and was thrilled to hear that Izzie wanted to take Santana shopping.

"Anytime honey," Mrs. Lopez replied, looking them both over once more before she turned to exit the room.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in the room diffusing and allowing her to not feel suffocated. It was awkward whenever her mother and Brittany were in the same room now. Brittany's revelation at the campfire had caused her mom to act even more mysterious. She actually suggested family game nights, an event that had ceased to exist when Santana had expressed interest in Cheerios and football players. A sigh of frustration followed the first. Santana was getting sick of dancing around the giant elephant in the room. She was thankful they had somehow managed to avoid a situation she was still unprepared for. But it was obvious her mother didn't want her spending time with Brittany alone or at her house, as if she were afraid her daughter would become infected or something.

Brittany noticed the way Santana's lips were pressed together, so tight that the edges were starting to turn white. She mistook the look as disappointment for not being able to go to the amusement park. "Don't be upset you can't come tomorrow. I think it's awesome they're taking you shopping. I know you've been wanting to spend time with your dad."

Santana turned from the spot her mother had been to look up at Brittany. "Were you not part of the same conversation I was? When was the last time my parents offered to take me shopping B?"

"Exactly. They want to spend more time with you silly." Brittany smiled. Her eyes shone with enough excitement for the both of them at the prospect of Santana spending time with her parents.

"Brittany, she doesn't want me to spend the night at your house. She lied."

"Not everyone's out to get you San. It's obvious she just wants to spend time with you."

"And why would she want to do that?"

"Because you're awesome, duh. Who wouldn't want to spend time with you?"

Santana smiled, her eyes dropping to the floor, as her cheeks grew a little warm. Brittany walked toward her, brushing her cheek with the back of her finger. She could tell Santana was not convinced, and she couldn't help but be a little confused.

"Why do you think your mom would lie? I mean who lies about wanting to go shopping?" Brittany wondered, her eyes looking to the ceiling as if the answers were written across it.

Santana thought it was adorable. The way the blues in her eyes traveled to the tops of her sockets and her nose scrunched in concentration. "Because we can't all be adorable like you Britt," she offered instead.

Brittany looked back to Santana and smiled. That big, dopey smile that reached her ears and displayed the whites of her canine teeth. The smile that caused her head to cock to the side and her eyes to sparkle. It was joy reincarnated on Brittany's face. And Santana loved it. Santana smiled back as she slung her purse over her shoulder. She needed to get them out of the room before Brittany decided to press her against the nearest wall.

"Saaantttaaana," Brittany whined, knowing Santana was purposely avoiding the question.

Santana chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, how do you manage to be so freaking adorable one minute and like a freaking sex goddess the next? It's ridiculously unfair."

Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "I was born this way. And you're totally avoiding the question."

Santana's smiled faltered, her eyes narrowing a little. "I don't want to worry you with things that don't matter." Her voice was softer than before, and Brittany's expression dropped at the turn.

"If it involves you, it will always matter to me," Brittany offered.

Santana's eyebrows rose, questioning the assuredness of Brittany's statement. With a slight nod from Brittany as a silent answer to her unasked question, she sighed before continuing. "I think she's afraid you're gonna turn her daughter gay."

Brittany's eyebrows knitted together. "But that's impossible. You can't turn gay. It's who you are."

Santana rolled her shoulders. She knew that. But it was impossible explaining that to someone else. "Yeah, well…"

Brittany knew Santana wanted to drop the conversation. She was just thankful Santana was being honest about her concerns with her mother. Brittany walked toward Santana's closet, nudging Santana's hip as she passed by. It was playful and suggestive, but it was her way of telling Santana she wouldn't press the issue.

"I'm just gonna grab a sweatshirt in case it gets cold."

Santana nodded before she realized where Brittany was headed. Her stomach dropped at the possibility of Brittany seeing her closet door. Writing those words and taping them up felt a lot more personal and intimate than simply telling Brittany she loved her. She wasn't ready for Brittany to see that. "Wait," she called, rushing past Brittany to reach the closet first.

"Let me get it." Santana blurted, fumbling with the door. Brittany's eyebrows rose in question at Santana's unusual and frantic behavior. "Uh, my closet's a little messy." Santana fumbled with the door to open only one side of the closet.

"I don't care," Brittany giggled.

"Well I do," Santana muttered, yanking a hoodie from a hanger and slamming the door. "Here." She offered Brittany a green sweatshirt that she had draped over her forearm.

"Thanks," Brittany smiled, leaning in and leaving a quick kiss to Santana's cheek. "Now let's go before your mom thinks we're having sex or something."

"B, that's not funny." Santana snorted. She tried to sound serious, but she couldn't help the light laugh that shot through her.

"Relax," Brittany chuckled. "I think she'd be happy that at least her daughter won't be getting pregnant anytime soon." Brittany's smile faltered, the tone in her voice dropping. "I can't get you pregnant right? Because Uncle Joe told me like the plus side to Aunt Mary cheating on him with his sister…which I'm taking this moment to say that my aunt is unavailable San."

Santana covered her mouth with her hand as she stifled a giggle. The funniest part was that Brittany was being one hundred percent serious. Santana stopped smiling and nodded her head in all seriousness at Brittany's statement.

"He said she wasn't gonna have a baby like the time she cheated on him with her boss. And I know I thought only storks brought babies, but Ms. Holliday had said that's not true." Brittany's eyebrows furrowed as she continued ranting to try and understand the intricacies of pregnancy, especially when it related to two females. "So I don't really know how Aunt Mary got pregnant with one person and not the other. And the only answer I could come up with is because one was a girl."

"You can't get me pregnant," Santana assured. Her hands reached toward Brittany, stroking her arm before falling to brush at her knuckles. "But I think it's time your Uncle gets a divorce."

"Okay good. I'm not ready to be a mom." Brittany huffed. But then her head cocked to the side and Santana watched as the imaginary wheels began to turn in her head. "But what happens when I want to have sweet lady babies with you?"

The color drained from Santana's cheeks before flashing bright red. "How bout we just go to the party and leave the baby talk till we're forty."

* * *

><p>"Ready. Set. Go!" Puck called.<p>

Somehow the boys had convinced the girls to split up into two teams and play flip cup. Brittany immediately loved the idea, and chose Santana and Quinn as her partners before anyone else could argue. That left Rachel, Tina, and Mercedes on the opposite team. Brittany had decided they were all going to play whether they wanted to or not.

In unison, Rachel and Quinn picked up their red cups, filled half-way with a pinkish drink. They stood across from one another on opposite sides of the table. Puck had placed the foldout table in the middle of his garage in order to play. Rachel winced as the liquid sloshed from her cup to her mouth, a few drops falling down her chin.

Quinn finished her drink first, and set the cup down on the edge of the table and began to try and flip the cup over. Rachel finished soon after, managing to flip her cup over before Quinn.

Tina immediately picked up her cup and began her turn as the rest of her team cheered her on. She gulped back the contents of her cup, as she watched Quinn continue to try to flip her cup out of the corner of her eye.

"Come on Q," Brittany bounced on the balls of her feet. Her eyes were wide with excitement, her fists clenched at her sides.

Quinn shot her an angry look, her eyes narrowing as her fingers curled under the plastic cup. Quinn was annoyed with Brittany's impatience. But she was more annoyed with herself and the fact that she couldn't flick a stupid cup. The whole idea of putting a cup on the edge of the table and then trying to flip it over was idiotic. And she couldn't believe she actually got convinced to do it in the first place. The cup tumbled in the air before landing with the rim on the table.

Brittany clapped, excited that Quinn had finally flipped her cup over. She was so excited that Quinn actually had to nudge Brittany's arm and point at her own cup so she would start her turn.

Tina flipped her cup over after her fifth attempt, and Mercedes reached for her drink. She starting guzzling down her mixed drink, watching as Brittany set her cup down on the table.

Brittany flipped her cup over on the first try. She let out a high pitch squeal as she turned to Santana.

Santana smiled wide and launched for her cup. The boys stood around the table, cheering on the last two girls. Mercedes was already trying to flip hers over before Santana even finished her drink.

"Hurry San." Brittany jeered, unable to stand still as the race came down to Santana and Mercedes. She jumped up and down next to Santana, making sure not to bump into her so she wouldn't lose her concentration.

Santana plopped her cup on the table and flicked her wrist. Mercedes' cup landed on its side, and she reached for it as Santana's also landed on its side. Santana wasn't sure if she was more annoyed at the fact that her cup didn't land on its rim, or the fact that she actually cared.

"Come on, come on, come on," Brittany ranted. Her hands flailed in front of her chest as she continued to bounce up and down.

When the song changed, Brittany had a hard time deciding whether to start dancing or continue jumping. The group watched in panicked silence as both cups tumbled in the air. Except for Brittany, who kept nudging a disgruntled Quinn to join her in her excitement. All of a sudden, one cup was flipped on its rim, the other lying on its side.

The three former Cheerios threw their hands in the air, Santana beaming with joy at winning the game. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's middle and lifted her off the ground. She spun in a small circle, Santana giggling dramatically as her arms whirled above her head. Once Santana's feet were back on the ground, Brittany squeezed her a little before pulling away. She turned on the balls of her feet and slung her arms around Quinn, picking her off the ground as well.

"That's not fair. You three shouldn't be on the same team. We all know more than half of your team has more than enough practice at the flicking of the wrist," Rachel slurred.

Puck snickered, his fist coming up to cover his mouth.

Santana shot her a daring look, the center of her right eyebrow rising to a point. "Excuse me Berry?"

"Because you guys were on the Cheerios. It gives you an advantage from having to toss girls in the air with the simple strength of your wrists," Rachel smirked.

Santana's other eyebrow hitched, her forehead wrinkling in a bold sass. "And here I thought you were finally growing a pair Berry."

"While I think it's perfectly clear that you do in fact have more experience than me with a lot of things, I think we've all been through a lot this year, and I don't think this atmosphere is a good place to debate the meaning behind my statement." Rachel babbled, her eyes fluttering shut every once in a while, as if it would help keep her balance steady.

Santana chose not to argue. The alcohol in her system blurring the need to defend herself from the hobbit's jab at sexual promiscuity.

"I think it's time for a follow up game of spin the bottle." Artie chimed in, rolling toward the head of the table.

The boys erupted in agreement as Puck began to pull the table off to the side.

Brittany returned from the cooler in the corner of the garage, handing another cup of pink liquid to Santana. She winked as their hands brushed against one another, smiling at the way Santana's forehead still showed signs of wanting to argue with Rachel, even though her eyes had no fire behind them. "You okay?" Brittany asked, bringing her own cup to her lips.

"Yeah. Five by five B." Santana smirked, taking a sip of her drink. Her lips pursed as the strong liquid ran across her tongue. "Jeez. What is in this?"

Brittany shrugged, licking off the droplets of drink that had sloshed on her lips. "Puck made it."

"That explains it." Santana chuckled, taking another sip. "At least it won't take as long to get drunk then."

Brittany nodded, shuffling to Santana's side as the others started to form a circle on the floor. She giggled when Rachel sort of fell into her place on the ground, and even further when she tried to move once she realized she wasn't sitting next to Finn.

Santana lowered herself to the cold concrete, her legs crossing underneath her Indian style. She could see Puck's old bedroom lamp in the corner, the collection of dust clouding the surface as it stood in storage. She wondered when he had moved it out here. Had it honestly been that long since she had seen his room?

Puck walked into her line of vision as he placed an empty been bottle in the middle of the circle. He chose to make eye contact with her chest, and she felt a little nauseous at the innuendo. Had she always been just a body in his bed, passing time until the next one?

Santana saw Quinn standing off to the side. They had both opted out of playing the first rendition of this game in Rachel's basement. But Brittany had practically tugged her arm off getting her to sit down. It seemed only fair that Quinn should have to play as well.

"I have a seat all warm for you Q," she smirked, patting the cool ground to her right. When the others nodded eagerly as they waited for the last person to join, Santana knew Quinn would have no choice but to play. She wouldn't want to be seen as the only person who didn't have the balls to play an innocent game of spin the bottle.

Quinn huffed as she sat, giving Santana a look about as cold as the concrete. "I hate you," she whispered, leaning so only Santana could hear her.

Santana smirked and added a wink as she sipped from her drink.

"Alright, who wants to go first?" Puck asked, sitting between Finn and Artie's wheelchair.

"I will," Finn offered. He leant forward, grasping the bottle and spinning. It clanked against the concrete, the sound echoing off the plastered walls. Finn watched as it slowed, and silently hoped it wasn't going to land on another guy.

After a few seconds the bottle came to a halt, the opening pointed in Tina's direction.

Finn looked at Tina with a goofy grin as he shuffled closer to her. Both sets of lips were puckered like they had both just eaten a box of Sour Patch Kids. Their lips met, quick and awkward, before they pulled apart and rejoined their respective partners.

Tina spun next and landed on Artie. Santana sipped at her drink, not really interested in the reunion of wheels and lady goth. She hoped Artie had drank enough that he couldn't use his expertise in Physics to purposely get the bottle to land on Brittany. She couldn't help but glance at Mike as Tina and Artie kissed. He however seemed to be unfazed, his interest turned to Finn as they conversed. Santana wondered what it must be like to be so completely sure of your relationship that you didn't even worry about your partner kissing their ex, even if it was just a game.

Tina spun again on behalf of Artie, and the bottle stopped pointing in Rachel's direction. She smiled politely, taking another sip of her own drink before crawling over to plant a sweet peck on Artie's lips.

Rachel returned to her spot next to Finn, cuddling into his side. She seemed to settle there, content to giggle against his oaf-like limb. Finn had to nudge her side to remind her that she had to spin, which only seemed to make her giggle more. Her movements were sloppy as she leant toward the center to spin the bottle. She gasped when it landed on Puck, and couldn't contain her smile as she watched him smirk before moving toward her.

Santana turned to look at Brittany. The sides of her eyes were glossed over, and her head was swaying from side to side. Her lips were parted, and Santana knew that she only breathed out of her mouth when she was drinking. She never understood why, but it was her way of knowing when Brittany was beginning to feel the alcohol in her system.

Santana couldn't help the smile that curled upon her lips. Her eyes narrowed in a cat-like manner while her mind wandered. She knew Brittany got even flirtier after she started to feel tipsy. Brittany had a hard time keeping her hands to herself when she was sober. Mixing that with a drink that erased all inhibitions only fueled a very playful Brittany. And it usually led to a very aggressive Brittany in bed, or the back of Santana's car. And all of a sudden Santana wished they were alone instead of surrounded by the freaks and geeks that made up the glee club.

She was pulled from her fantasy when she noticed Brittany began to lean toward the center of the circle. She watched as Brittany's lips met Puck's, and they didn't hold back. Their lips naturally moved against each other's due to flowing alcohol and remembrance of past hook-ups.

Suddenly she didn't enjoy the fact that Brittany's hormones were heightened. Watching her make out with Puck was definitely not part of Santana's idea of a good time with playful Brittany. She was supposed to be the one kissing her. How the hell did Mike do this without a care in the world? Santana could feel the growing familiarity of jealousy pull at her chest. It threatened to spill from her lips in the form of angered Spanish. She chose to drink half of her cup to silence herself. She was not about to make a scene, nor act like the jealous type. That was beneath her. It was something Quinn would do, not her.

They pulled apart smirking, and Brittany hovered over the bottle on her knees and spun it. She sat back on her calves, wiping at her lips. She reached for her cup, locking eyes with Santana as she took a sip. The bottle continued to clank on the ground as she smiled at Santana. She was trying to be playful. But she noticed the scowl etched across the worry lines around Santana's eyes. She didn't understand how anyone could not like this game.

Santana forced herself to relax and understand it was all part of the game. She smiled back, basking in the lust that clouded Brittany's eyes. Her eyes fluttered to Brittany's see through top, taking in the way her chest heaved with each breath. She forced her eyes back to Brittany's, her cheeks growing hot as Brittany ran her tongue over the rim of her cup. Her narrowed eyes gave her action away, and Santana knew she was taunting her. Santana's scowl grew at the teasing behavior.

Their moment was broken when unified gasps erupted around the circle. Santana turned her head to look at the rest of the group. She followed their gaze to the bottle and realized why they were all silent. Except Puck, who was grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of getting one of his fantasies fulfilled. Santana wanted to slap the look off his face. He had told her that after watching her and Brittany make out at a party two summers ago, that the idea of watching virgin Quinn join the fun would have made it a hundred times hotter.

The open part of the bottle was pointing to a shocked Quinn, who was looking at Santana like she didn't know what to do. Her hazel eyes were wide in shock, and her cheeks were a bright shade of red. She looked like she might protest, but the bubbly blonde sitting to the other side of Santana knew Quinn didn't have a choice.

Brittany's alcohol induced body squealed in delight as she jumped in Quinn's direction. Quinn locked eyes with Santana for a split second before Brittany pressed her lips to Quinn's.

Quinn sat frozen, letting Brittany do all the work. But as the group began to cheer them on, Quinn loosened up. Her body relaxed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned into Brittany. Her lips parted, and Brittany's hands shot up to the back of Quinn's head. She felt as Brittany tugged on a chunk of her hair in order to pull her closer, and Quinn didn't object. Hell, the whole goody-two-shoes act was overplayed, and didn't achieve her anything. Why not make out with another girl at a party? It wasn't like anyone actually cared about her reputation anyways.

Brittany knew what she was doing. She knew she was torturing Santana, but in the oh so good way. She loved when Santana's lower lip jutted out in a pout. She loved when Santana tried to fight off the feeling of jealousy because she didn't want to accept it. She loved the fact that when Santana and her were finally alone, Santana would waste no time in claiming what she deemed as hers in order to make up for the way Brittany was currently kissing Quinn. Brittany knew this, so she pushed closer and pulled Quinn's bottom lip into her mouth.

Santana was sure she was a masochist. The sight before her was torture, but she couldn't look away. Her two best friends were kissing, and there was nothing she could do about it. The fire in the pit of her stomach and the ridiculous arousal between her legs grew when she saw Brittany take Quinn's top lip between her own. It angered her that instead of being the normal jealous type, the sight of watching Brittany make out with Quinn with no shame aroused her. Like, was she now turned on by anything female that it didn't matter if it were her two oldest friends? She really needed to get her libido in check. When Brittany let out a muffled whimper, Santana finished the rest of her drink in one gulp. She refused to watch anymore, so she stood to move toward the cooler to make another drink. She heard as the chants and hollers died down, and she assumed they had finished.

Brittany bounced over to Santana, holding out her cup as a silent gesture for a refill. The darkness in Santana's eyes proved Brittany's point that the kiss had affected her. She knew Santana was probably having a mental battle over it, and Brittany's own eyes lit with satisfaction.

"You seem to be having fun," Santana mocked, nodding her head in the direction of the group just as Quinn and Mike shared a kiss.

"You know I like kissing," Brittany smirked, poking at Santana's side playfully.

"I know, I just…" Santana's voice wavered, her body moving away from Brittany's jab. "How do you expect me to make you a drink if you insist on tickling me?" Santana pouted, waiting for Brittany to stop so she could pour vodka into the bottom of both of their cups.

"Wait a second." Brittany beamed, grasping the crook in Santana's elbow.

Santana looked up at her confused as she tightened the cap to the liquor bottle. She saw the corners of Brittany's lips curl and her eyes glimmer. "What?"

"You were totally jealous." Brittany jested, squeezing Santana's elbow.

"What?" Santana scoffed. "No I wasn't," she lied, reaching for the fruit punch.

"You totally were." Brittany continued giggling as she watched Santana fumble with the punch and spill a little on the table.

"No I wasn't." Santana stated again, her cheeks coloring a shade of pink.

"Well if you're not jealous, then you're turned on because you're acting all funny." Brittany jested, knowing the answer even if Santana tried to refuse it.

Santana froze, her eyes darting to Brittany's. "Britt. Are you seriously suggesting that watching you making out with Quinn turned me on?" Her heart pounded in her chest at the idea of being caught. Were her emotions written down her arms or something? Or did Brittany just know her too well? Santana didn't know which thought scared her more.

Brittany inched closer, leaning so her mouth was next to Santana's ear. Santana chanced a glance at the others, but they were absorbed in the game. "It's turned you on before," Brittany husked.

Santana shuddered. "Not. Fair." She managed, her voice shaky and full of arousal. The three of them had sworn never to talk about Cheer Camp from freshman year again. Quinn said she had just wanted to learn how to kiss before doing it for real with Finn. When Quinn had fallen asleep, her and Brittany had taken it upon themselves to finish what they had started. She remembered the shock on Brittany's face when she discovered that Santana was pretty wet. Thinking about it, Santana was pretty sure she should have known she was more into chicks even back then.

"Well I'll make sure to make it up to you later," Brittany smirked.

The warmth of her breath mixed with the tone of her voice to cause Santana's knees to buckle. The carton of fruit punch slipped from her hands and landed on the ground with a muffled thud. Luckily the music overpowered it and no one else had noticed the ordeal.

Santana bent to pick it up, her movements flustered. Brittany giggled before grabbing her drink and returning to the group. Santana braced herself against the table, calming her erratic heartbeat before slowly turning to rejoin them. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to survive the rest of the party as Brittany's words danced around in her head. The kiss kept flashing across her eyes, and the idea of Brittany doing even more than that to her later was arousing. She swallowed the heated lump in her throat as she turned to make her way back to the circle.

* * *

><p>Every year the city officials set off fireworks on the football field for the holiday. Puck's house sat on a hill outside of town, and sitting in his front yard they were able to watch as shades of purple, red, blue, green, and white exploded in the sky.<p>

A green burst lit up the darkened lawn as Brittany draped the sweatshirt over her legs. A slight breeze had picked up when the sun had set, causing her legs to become a little chilly. She leaned to her left, brushing her shoulder against Santana's.

With each crack or whistle of a new firework, Santana flinched. She enjoyed the display, but the sudden bellow always caught her off guard.

Brittany felt as a new rumble startled Santana, causing her shoulder to bump into Brittany's. Brittany tore her attention from the fireworks to watch as Santana's arm twitched with each resounding boom. She slid her hand under the sweatshirt to stroke at Santana's leg. Santana's body naturally leant into the way Brittany's fingers brushed away the slight distress.

"It's so beautiful," Brittany whispered into her ear.

Santana looked around and noticed that each paired couple seemed to vary from watching the event to making out on Puck's front lawn. Finn tried desperately to get a fidgeting midget to sit still long enough to actually watch the show. Santana was glad her and Brittany hadn't drank as much as Rachel, or maybe they just had higher tolerances, because the last thing she wanted to do was be patient with a drunk. Tina and Mike had taken the opportunity to ignore the fireworks, and immerse themselves in one another. Santana rolled her eyes at the way Mike's hands pulled Tina's lips into his. Couldn't they be nice enough to at least get a room before they got it on in the middle of Puck's yard?

The acts of affection made Santana a little upset. She wished her and Brittany could at least have the choice of making out while watching the fireworks. She turned her attention back to the sky as flecks of gold faded into a shade of red. She nodded at Brittany's observation, choosing to focus on her instead of the guilt she suddenly felt.

"It's like watching a rainbow explode into glitter." Brittany mused, running her fingers up and down Santana's thigh. The feather like touch ghosted across Santana's skin as Brittany's fingers began to swirl in a figure eight pattern.

Santana chuckled, turning to look back at Brittany. "I would love to spend a day inside of that mind of yours." Santana chirped, bringing her index finger up to point at Brittany's temple.

Brittany's amusement fell. "San that's not funny. You know what happened to me the last time I got probed. The people on that spaceship used a part of my brain as some type of ritual. They didn't even ask first. And they sent Lord Tubbington to spy on me to make sure I wouldn't tell anyone. But I ended up convincing him that being my friend was better than my enemy, so now he makes sure they won't harm me again."

Santana stared at her, her lips in a constant smile as Brittany spoke in the utmost sincerity. The story only made Santana want to know what went on in Brittany's mind even more. Were Brittany's dreams so realistic that she had a hard time separating them from reality? But she suppressed a laugh and scooted her hand to brush at Brittany's hip. "Okay. No more probing," Santana concluded.

Santana forgot about the display in the sky. She watched as the bursts of color reflected across Brittany's eyes. It made the blue in them glow in a way Santana had never seen before, like the way the scales of fish shimmered just below the water's surface. She felt as Brittany's finger inched its way up her thigh. The light pressure was soft, but the force behind it was eager, and Santana shivered from the mix of it with the night air. She watched as Brittany's eyes darted between lips, chest, and back to Santana's eyes, like a frantic bird that didn't know where to land.

The hunger in Brittany's eyes drove her crazy, and Santana couldn't hold back any longer. "You want to get out of here? My mom texted and said they went to visit my grandma and won't be back till the morning." Santana breathed, her thigh twitching as Brittany's finger moved higher.

Brittany simply nodded, jumping to her feet with ease and pulling Santana with her. They didn't even bother with goodbyes as they giggled their way to Santana's car.

* * *

><p>Santana locked the front door after they entered. Her mother would definitely kill her if she returned home to find the door unlocked through the night. As she turned, she was greeted by fervent lips pressed to her own. Roaming hands groped her sides, pushing the fabric of her dress even tighter against her skin. Her back was flattened against the door with an echoed thud. A surprised moan escaped the back of her throat when Brittany's hands palmed her breasts over her dress.<p>

Brittany smiled at the noise, her teeth grazing the underside of Santana's jaw. She looped her fingers around Santana's wrists and began to pull her toward the stairs. But Santana didn't budge.

She needed a minute to clear her head and finish sobering up. Weren't they supposed to be taking things slow? "You go on up. I'll be right there." Santana whispered, kissing the tip of Brittany's nose as she weaseled her away out of Brittany's grasp.

"Take your time. And can you bring me a glass of water when you come up?" Brittany asked, her eyes pleading in a way Santana couldn't read.

She nodded her head in response. As she turned toward the kitchen, Brittany added a light tap to her retreating behind. She watched as Santana smirked over her shoulder, wagging her hips playfully before she completely disappeared into the room. Brittany's cheeks flushed at the action as she bounded up the stairs to Santana's room.

Santana entered the kitchen, switching on the light just above the stove. It provided enough light to maneuver around the kitchen without bumping into things, while keeping her from having to turn on the main light. She walked to the fridge to grab a glass of water, but she found her hands shaking as she reached for it. It was stupid. It wasn't their first time. But it was different now. And Santana cursed herself for acting like a pussy. Like a lovesick virgin who didn't already know the parts of Brittany's body that turned her to jelly. Like the underside of Brittany's breasts. Or the back of Brittany's knees. Or even Brittany's armpits. Santana knew all of this, and yet she couldn't help as first-time jitters coursed through her. The fluttering in her stomach as if she had never touched Brittany before. The panic that she might not be good, even though she had never heard Brittany complain before. Feelings were involved now, and for Santana, that was a first.

She managed to drink half a glass of water before she placed the cup in the sink and headed out of the kitchen. Faint light came from the cracked door of her room and she wondered if she had taken longer in the kitchen than she thought. Maybe Brittany had passed out from drinking too much and Santana wouldn't even have to worry about feelings-involved sex.

However, when she pushed the door open, she was met with an almost naked Brittany and a room full of lit candles. Santana wondered how Brittany had found the box of tealight candles under her bed in the first place. But her mind seemed to not care as she looked around and saw that Brittany had placed them all over her room. Her dresser. Her desk. Even the windowsill. Santana's eyes widened as she took in the sight of a slightly bent Brittany lighting a candle on her night stand. She was wearing a very skimpy pair of black lace panties and a matching bra. Santana had to gulp back the lump that had pushed its way past her heart and into her throat. "Uh, Britt?"

Brittany looked over her shoulder and smiled, the lighter in her hands going dead. Her eyes were beaming, but soft, like a child looking at their favorite stuffed animal. Like she didn't know whether she wanted to play or simply cuddle. She didn't speak as she walked toward a frozen Santana, where she remained in the doorway. She grabbed at the strap of Santana's purse and placed it on the ground.

She held on to Santana's hand, bending at the hip to place her lips against the tips of Santana's fingers. She kissed her way from fingers to shoulder, her fingers winding with Santana's as her hips straightened. Her other hand wrapped its way around Santana's waist, palming the small of Santana's back. She pulled Santana into her front, their bodies molding like they were made from the same clay that had previously been torn apart. Brittany continued to kiss her way across Santana's jaw, savoring the mix of salty sweat and the remnants of fruity drinks.

Santana felt as Brittany took in a sharp inhale. The muscles in Brittany's stomach caved in and pushed her breasts further against Santana's. "Britt," Santana breathed, her voice shaking with arousal.

"Is it too soon?" Brittany husked into the crook of Santana's collarbone. "I know we're supposed to be taking it slow, but…" her words disappeared as she bit into the soft flesh of Santana's neck. Brittany could feel the vibration from the groan Santana elicited.

Santana melted into Brittany's touch. The way her hand was firm on her back, and the way the other cradled her own hand. The way their bodies were so close that Santana had a hard time distinguishing where one ended and the other began. The fact that Brittany was practically naked and pressed up against her.

But Santana could smell the alcohol that lingered on Brittany's breath, like sour kitchen cleaner. She couldn't help but wonder if it should be like this. Shouldn't they both be a lot more sober than they were? Shouldn't they want to take their time instead of having Brittany's hands already fumbling with the zipper at the back of Santana's dress? Should Santana honestly be thinking all this while a scantily clad Brittany sucked at her neck and wrestled with the zipper to her own clothes? Santana was already hating this whole feelings thing.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Brittany mumbled. Her lips fought for more skin. She kissed the corner of Santana's mouth before trailing to the side of her neck. Her fingers gradually lowered the zipper at Santana's back, the teeth popping open one by one. She let go of Santana's hand to palm a full ass and press them impossibly closer.

"Mhm," Santana breathed, her head arching to the side to grant Brittany more access to the spots of her neck she needed Brittany's lips the most.

Brittany gripped the hem of Santana's dress and pulled upwards. Her nails dragged across Santana's thighs, leaving traces of passion in their wake. Santana lifted her arms up, her eyes closing in anticipation and the need for the garment to be removed. Brittany bunched the fabric around Santana's stomach. But instead of pulling the dress over Santana's head, Brittany dropped toward the floor, bending at the knees into a crouching position. She knelt and looked at the marks left by her nails before leaning toward tanned and humming skin. She kissed the top of Santana's knee, nipping lightly. Her hands remained at Santana's stomach where she held the dress, while her lips traced up Santana's thigh, following the same path her fingers had previously roamed.

Santana's head fell forward from the stimulation. It had become a burden to hold herself up as Brittany lit her skin on fire. Her hands dropped to tangle in blonde hair. "Britt," she breathed, her legs twitching from the hassle of standing.

Brittany ignored her pleading, and smiled against the top of Santana's thigh. She licked the crease where it met Santana's hip. She looked at the thin material covering Santana's core before moving toward it. She kissed across the cool fabric of the thong, feeling the warmth radiating beneath it.

She felt Santana shudder, her hips rolling with each placement of Brittany's mouth. She ran her tongue from the top of Santana's underwear to the bottom of her bellybutton. She heard as a wordless gasp escaped parted lips. She smiled against the caramel skin of Santana's stomach before kissing it softly. As her lips left the warm flesh, she began rising to her feet. Once she stood, she smirked at the look painted across Santana's face.

Her eyes were squeezed tight, her eyelashes pressed against prominent cheekbones. Her cheeks were flushed, the warmth of growing arousal spreading across her face. Her lips were pulled thin as if she were desperately trying to stifle vocal responses. Brittany leant forward, kissing Santana's upper lip before her hands began to move. She pulled the dress from Santana's stomach and over her breasts. Santana was in a daze as Brittany dragged it over her head and limp arms.

Fuck what Santana thought earlier. This was so much better than anything she had experienced before. Brittany was a pleasant mix of rushed hunger and slow passion, and it was intoxicating. Santana fought her own desire to skip all the foreplay and head straight to the main event. She wanted this. God, she wanted all of this so bad. Every nerve in her body was firing with each touch and caress.

Brittany's lips returned to Santana's, her tongue flicking across swollen lips and begging for entrance. She ran the pads of her thumbs up Santana's sides, starting from hip to breast, and back again. Santana squirmed, goose bumps rising on the skin covering her ribs. Brittany sucked on Santana's bottom lip, pulling every ounce of control from Santana to herself. And Santana had no problem giving it to her. She had absolutely no qualms in allowing Brittany to direct this motion picture as she wanted.

Brittany's lips kissed their way down Santana's neck, leaving a trail of burning desire as they went. Her fingers latched at the clasp on Santana's back, as her lips pressed firmly to Santana's bare shoulder. The clasp opened, and Brittany's fingers scratched at Santana's back. Each movement was slow, patient, detailed. And Santana reveled in it. She immersed herself in the way Brittany handled her like she were a piece of glass. She drowned herself in the way Brittany reached for every emotion deep within Santana and yanked them out with each touch. It was blissful torture.

Brittany guided the straps of Santana's bra over her shoulders and down her arms. She nipped at Santana's collarbone, biting lightly at the smooth skin. Santana hissed at the pained pleasure, her chest heaving as a silent beg for more. Brittany kissed her way back to Santana's smooth shoulder as her bra fell to the ground.

Santana was so in tuned to Brittany that she hadn't realized music was playing. But when the familiar voice of the girl in question rang through her ears, her eyes opened and immediately found cobalt blue staring back at her.

"Please don't think it's cheesy. But Rachel helped me put this together. You know I suck at words sometimes, and I just wanted you to know how I felt." Brittany smiled, fidgeting on the heels of her feet as she waited for Santana's approval. Her hands stilled at the small of Santana's back, circling the soft skin with gentle fingers.

"Brittany you don't suck at words." Santana answered automatically before the understanding of what Brittany had actually said kicked in. "Wait. What do you mean Rachel helped you?" Her voice hitched in alarm, the tone rising a little at the prospect of Brittany telling Rachel about them.

Brittany watched as a flood of panic replaced Santana's looks of passion. She smiled, kissing Santana's forehead. "San relax. Don't you trust me enough to keep your secret?" She breathed against warm flesh, smoothing out the wrinkles of worry that had taken up residence.

Santana sighed, her features relaxing against Brittany's lips on her forehead. "I'm sorry. Of course I trust you Britt." _With my life_, she added in her head.

"I told Rachel it was for Lord Tubbington," Brittany reassured. Her fingers brushed over exposed hipbones as they moved to grip Santana's waist.

Santana couldn't help the snicker she released. It rumbled from the pit of her stomach to erupt past plumped lips. There was no doubt in her mind Brittany was good with words. Or at least manipulating them. One just had to read between the lines. Santana was pretty sure Brittany's cat related to something a lot more human, and a lot more sexual.

After the brief introduction ended through her speakers, the room fell quiet before Brittany's voice began to sing. And Santana almost forgot about the fact that she was standing in front of Brittany, simply wearing a thong, as she tried to listen to the song. Her eyes closed as the angelic tune reached her ears.

_And so it is_

_Just like you said it would be_

_Life goes easy on me_

_Most of the time_

Santana's eyes snapped open as moist lips wrapped around her nipple. Brittany's hands pulled against Santana's hips, pulling her closer as she sucked and licked at Santana's nipple. Santana moaned in appreciation, and her hips bucked naturally, desperate for more friction. Brittany let go of the now erect bud, standing to kiss at Santana's neck and jaw.

Santana reached behind Brittany to unclasp her bra, her fingers digging into freckled skin. Her lips sought Brittany's as if her life depended on it. Like they were her only lifeline to this world. Her tongue slid against Brittany's bottom lip as the clasp fell open with a silent pop. Her heart felt like it was pounding from her chest with each second her lips remained on Brittany's skin. She was desperate to merge their bodies because the thought of them ever being two separate beings was horrifying. She didn't understand how she had managed to wait this long without opening herself up to feeling what sex truly meant.

She sucked on Brittany's top lip, eliciting a pleasured whimper from the back of Brittany's throat. She brought the straps down Brittany's arms, her fingers indenting pale skin as they moved. She wanted Brittany to feel it. She wanted Brittany to feel the way her skin crawled with desire for Brittany's touch. She wanted to show Brittany how much she yearned for them to feel together, for the first time, the way their bodies reacted to one another's. The bra fell to join Santana's discarded clothes and Santana's hands brushed underneath Brittany's armpits to palm her breasts.

Brittany's head fell back, their lips parting as she gasped at Santana's touch. Santana used the response to her advantage, kissing her way down Brittany's neck at an agonizing pace. She wanted to commit to memory the feel of Brittany's skin underneath her lips. Once she had allowed herself to open up, she couldn't stop. It was as if she had never touched Brittany's skin before. She was feeling it and tasting it in a whole new way. She sucked at Brittany's pulse, swirling her tongue against the beating flesh.

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, gluing the fronts of their bodies together. Santana gasped, and Brittany took the opportunity to extend her tongue into Santana's awaiting mouth. The way Santana was behaving, the way her body hummed with renewed affection, was intoxicating. This is what Brittany had wanted to show her. To prove to Santana that with feelings it was better. She reasoned telling Santana she was right would probably ruin the mood, so she licked at the back of Santana's teeth, earning her another groan of approval.

She moved one of her arms from Santana's neck and bent slightly to grasp at the back of Santana's knee. Santana groaned and squealed at the same time, and Brittany thought it was unbelievably adorable. Their lips parted as she maneuvered Santana into her arms with ease, cradling Santana's body in front of her chest. Their skin ignited against one another, a perky nipple ghosting across Brittany's chest. Santana looped her arms around Brittany's neck, as her head fell to Brittany's shoulder. She breathed in the scent there, a mix of aroused sex and lingering lavender soap. Her heart continued to ram against her ribcage, and she wondered if Brittany could feel it as she allowed herself to be carried to her bed.

_And so it is_

_The shorter story_

_No love no glory_

_No hero in her skies_

Santana smiled against the crook of Brittany's neck as she heard Brittany sing along to herself. It was a little off key as she grunted from the added strain of carrying Santana, but Santana thought it was adorable. She kissed at Brittany's neck, sucking the pale flesh into her mouth. She didn't want to ruin the moment by speaking, so she reasoned the only way to show her love for Brittany's natural adorableness was to use her lips against exposed skin.

Brittany moaned, walking them toward Santana's bed. She laid Santana down on the cool black sheets, charcoal hair splaying across her pillow. Brittany stood for a moment, etching the beauty before her into her mind. She was so fragile. Innocent. Hers. How had she gotten so lucky to be able to have this version of Santana? The one no one else got to see? The one with no walls or barriers, but just an open heart that beat in time with her own. Brittany shuddered, her eyes softening to pure affection as she placed one of her knees at Santana's hip. Her eyes remained locked on almond brown as she swung her other leg over Santana's body to rest at her other hip. She felt as Santana naturally rolled her hips in response, sending a wave of arousal down Brittany's spine. She sat back on Santana's thighs, looking down at Santana's expression-filled eyes. Santana wasn't holding back, and Brittany's heart melted at the unrestrained sight.

Santana's hands skirted to Brittany's hips, tracing the bone with her fingertips. Her eyes remained fixed on Brittany's, and for once she didn't feel the need to look away. This wasn't about the work for a quick release. This was about every step that led to home plate. Every calculated placement and automatic responses from their bodies. This was about the touch and feel. The unabashed need and unwavering desire. This was about love.

Brittany watched the flickering of light that danced across Santana's tanned skin. It lit her flesh on fire, and Brittany swore she looked magical. Like an angel. A very sexy angel that definitely wasn't sent to Earth to simply stand around and guard people.

Santana licked her lips and Brittany couldn't hold back any longer. She lowered herself upon the warm flesh beneath her. Pressing her lips against Santana's in a move that was both practiced and memorized. She tasted the lingering sour of liquor and the sweetness of Santana. Her tongue parted Santana's lips, licking her way across Santana's tongue.

Santana's hands crawled up Brittany's back, tracing over Brittany's spine as her lips and tongue danced rhythmically with Brittany's. Her fingers brushed over Brittany's ribs, her fingertips gliding over smooth flesh with ease. She wanted to remember everything. Every freckle. Every scar. Every indentation and curve. She sculpted Brittany into her mind without shame.

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes_

Brittany's hands worked their way to Santana's breasts, palming them as her lips continued to kiss Santana's. She felt the moan that fell freely from Santana's lips and into her own mouth, fueling her hands to caress harder. Santana's back arched with each squeeze, pushing her abdomen into Brittany's. Their bodies moved against one another's fluidly.

Santana fought to listen to Brittany's song and feel Brittany's touches at the same time. Her senses were going into overdrive trying to keep up with it all. It was overwhelming, opening herself up in every way possible. But when Brittany's thumb flicked over her nipple, she decided thinking was getting in the way. And she simply let herself go. Her lips kissed their way across Brittany's jaw and down to her neck. She took the flesh between her lips and sucked, rubbing her tongue against the area.

Brittany shifted her weight, moving down Santana's body as her lips found their way to the tops of Santana's breasts. She licked at the salty sheen of sweat, her tongue rolling over the curve of Santana's cleavage. Her hands gripped at Santana's waist as her lips kissed down the crevice between Santana's breasts. She felt the muscles in Santana's stomach flex in anticipation, her hips rolling naturally into Brittany's.

Brittany rolled her tongue around Santana's nipple, her fingers gripping into Santana's skin to keep herself steady. Her lips kissed in a circle around it, drawing out every sensation in a teasing manner. Her lips settled upon it, sucking it into her mouth as her tongue continued to flick across it.

Santana gasped, the warmth of Brittany's mouth counteracting the cool of her air-conditioned room. Her hips continued to roll into Brittany's, frantic for friction and more warmth. Her hands continued to scratch at Brittany's back, pulling her closer as if they were tethered together and couldn't be more than a few centimeters apart. Her eyes were shut as she allowed her body to respond to Brittany's advances.

_And so it is_

_Just like you said it should be_

_We'll both forget the breeze_

_Most of the time_

Brittany licked at the underside of Santana's breast, nipping softly at the full mound. One of her hands skirted across Santana's stomach, scratching at her skin with unrestrained desire. Santana let out a guttural moan and Brittany couldn't help the groan she elicited in response. She kissed her way down Santana's chest to her naval, dipping her tongue into the crevice.

Santana squirmed underneath Brittany, the feel of Brittany's tongue over her skin driving her crazy. It was as if she were touching every inch of skin Santana had to offer, and it was beyond intoxicating. It was invigorating. Exhilarating. Stimulating. Enthralling. And every other adjective her flustered mind could think of at that moment. It was bliss, and her head shot back against the pillow as Brittany's tongue toyed with the waistband of her thong.

Brittany's teeth nipped at the fabric, pulling it back and allowing it to release and snap playfully against Santana's skin. Santana's hips bucked, and Brittany licked across her lower abdomen. Her fingers looped in the strands across Santana's hips and began to pull the fabric down tanned legs. Santana lifted her hips and bent her knees to aid in the disposal of her underwear. Brittany kissed her way up Santana's thighs, maneuvering herself in between Santana's legs in the process. As Santana took in a sharp inhale, Brittany lowered her mouth to Santana's center.

Santana moaned and her hips rose at the contact. Brittany's hands pressed at her hipbones, begging silently for her to relax and enjoy. To trust that Brittany would take care of her. Brittany's tongue flicked and she arched her back in response, her hips remaining firm against the bed. Her hands flew to Brittany, wrapping themselves in golden chains, linking them like a kite string as she began to float away. Brittany's tongue licked from opening to bud, and Santana forgot how to breathe.

Her body bent, sitting her upright as she pulled at Brittany's head to bring their lips together. She bit at Brittany's lower lip, her hands massaging the back of Brittany's scalp. Brittany giggled as Santana managed to flip them over, Brittany falling flat to her back and Santana hopping to straddle her hips. She nipped at Brittany's jaw before kissing her way across porcelain flesh to Brittany's chest. She licked across the slight curve of Brittany's breast, sucking a shy nipple into her mouth without warning.

_And so it is_

_The colder water_

_The blower's daughter_

_The pupil in denial_

The fruity sweetness that always seemed to coat Brittany's skin filled her mouth. Her hands continued to palm and squeeze Brittany's breasts as her mouth ran over each freckle that dotted across Brittany's stomach. With each roll of her tongue or press of her lips, she felt Brittany's muscles tighten. The definition in her stomach only made her own arousal grow as she allowed her teeth to nip at an exposed ab.

Her hands left Brittany's chest to grab at the thin fabric hugging Brittany's hips and obscuring Santana from the place she wanted to kiss the most. Brittany's hips lifted as Santana pulled the garment down creamy legs, and tossed them across the room. She shifted between Brittany's legs, tracing up pale thighs as she lowered herself to Brittany's heat.

Brittany whimpered against the warmness of Santana's tongue. Her legs twitched as she rolled her hips into Santana's mouth. Her hands flew out to her sides, gripping the sheets in an attempt to remain rooted to the bed as Santana's tongue traced her center. Her eyes shut in pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the slickness of Santana's skilled tongue.

Santana's tongue retreated and she placed a strong kiss to Brittany's core. Her lips traveled upward, leaving chaste kisses from Brittany's groin to her jaw, and finally to pale lips. She lowered her body against Brittany's, their hips rolling into one another's without hesitation. She sucked Brittany's bottom lip into her mouth, releasing it with a wet pop as their eyes opened and locked on one another. Unified moans erupted and echoed throughout the room as the taste of each other mixed in their mouths.

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes off you_

_I can't take my eyes_

Without a word uttered between them, they expressed the same desire through the flecks of gold in Santana's eyes and the streaks of silver in Brittany's. The need to feel each other at the same time. To watch the passion wash its way over the other's face. The need to come together in more ways than one.

Santana shifted her weight as one of her arms fell to the apex of Brittany's thighs. One of Brittany's hands reached toward Santana's abdomen, fingering the stretch of smooth skin below her bellybutton. Their eyes remained locked as both allowed a finger to split heated slits. Gasps rang clear, each finger circling an eager bud. Brittany watched as Santana's eyes shone in the candlelight, her pleasure etched across her dark pupils. She lifted her upper body off the bed to mold their lips together.

Santana's finger plunged first, and Brittany fell back against the bed with a shuddered groan. She took a minute to regain control over herself before she allowed her own finger to find an awaiting center. With a gentle push, she watched as Santana's eyes squeezed shut as her lips panted an audible curse in Spanish. Brittany moaned at the lustful language, causing Santana to open her eyes and find Brittany watching her with an adored focus.

They picked up a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of each other in a ritualistic dance. Brittany watched as Santana's breasts bounced with each thrust, and Santana gazed at the way Brittany's cheeks flushed with each penetration. Their moans mixed heavenly with Brittany's prerecorded voice still playing from Santana's CD player in the corner of the room.

Santana could feel herself getting close, so she picked up her pace in order to keep Brittany with her. Brittany's lips parted, and Santana lost control as she bent to kiss them. The pleasure emanating from them aroused her as she fought to hold on. Brittany's tongue filled her mouth, and she sucked with renewed hunger.

_Did I say that I love you?_

_Did I say that I want to?_

_Leave it all behind?_

Brittany looped her free arm around the lower part of Santana's back, pressing them together. Their breasts slid against one another as Brittany picked up her pace as well. They glided back and forth, Brittany keeping Santana pressed to her in an attempt to keep one from falling over the eventual cliff before the other.

Santana kissed her way across Brittany's jaw, panting unknown Spanish into Brittany's sweaty skin. Her free hand steadied her against the bed, the weight of trying to hold herself up wavering as she rose to her peak. She quickly added a second finger to bring Brittany with her. "Britt," she panted, breathing hotly into the crook of Brittany's neck.

"I'm right here baby," Brittany moaned, her walls beginning to tighten around Santana's fingers.

With her reassurance, Santana allowed herself to tumble over the edge, a satisfied moan ripping itself from within and past plumped lips. Brittany watched it happen, the strain of Santana's pleased gasps and glistening eyes written across her face. And she felt herself falling too. She clenched around Santana's fingers, her hips bucking as each wave rolled through her.

Santana managed to peek through hooded eyes just as Brittany came undone. And as her own legs twitched in response, she fell upon a panting and shaking Brittany. Brittany removed her finger first; wiping the residue on the sheets next to her thighs before looping her arm around Santana's middle along with her other one.

Santana heard a gasp escape Brittany's lips as she removed her fingers, wiping them across the back of her thighs as she snuggled on top of Brittany. Her hot breath tickled across Brittany's moistened skin and her hands fought to wrap around Brittany's shoulders. Santana felt as Brittany placed a delicate kiss to the top of her head as she heard the last of Brittany's song fade into the now soundless room.

_I can't take my mind off you_

_I can't take my mind off you_

_I can't take my mind off you_

_I can't take my mind off you_

_I can't take my mind off you_

_I can't take my mind_

Brittany reached down to grab at the sheet bunched at their feet. She pulled it over their bodies before wrapping her arms around Santana once more. She was more than content to lie there without interruption for as long as possible.

"I love you," Santana whispered into the crook of Brittany's neck, following her words with a subtle kiss.

"I love you too," Brittany breathed, her hands rubbing soothing circles over Santana's back.

Santana listened as Brittany's breathing became irregular, and she couldn't help but curse herself for ever thinking that any type of sex was better than what had just happened. Her own exhaustion soon took over as she placed another delicate kiss to Brittany's neck. She cuddled her face in closer and fell asleep wrapped in Brittany's arms.

* * *

><p>Santana awoke to the cascade of sun pouring in through her blinds. She squinted and rolled over, only to find that the bed was empty. She blinked in confusion, rising onto her elbow to look around the room for any trace of Brittany. She really hoped she hadn't imagined everything. But the sight of used candles and her own naked body had told her it was real. Along with a folded up piece of paper on the pillow opposite her.<p>

She reached for it and unfolded it, Brittany's scribbled letters casting a smile over her lips.

_San,_

_I'll totally write you a better letter later, but I didn't want you to think I just left because I like didn't have a good time or something. Because I totally did. If I'm being honest, that was definitely the best sex we've ever had. It even beats that time we did it in the back of your car on your sixteenth birthday. Or the time I wanted to do it at that park, and you said we had to wait until we got back to my house. But we ended up doing it in the slide. _

_I wanted to leave before your parents got home because I didn't want to cause another argument. You know how I don't like those. But I'm definitely gonna write you the next letter when I get home. So hopefully you'll get it soon. _

_Have fun shopping today. Text me if you get bored._

_Britt. _

_P.S. I saw your closet door. But I didn't want to tell you last night cause I knew you'd freak out. People don't think I notice things, but I know you San. If I ever go to college, I'm totally taking a class about you because I'd totally ace it. Anyways, I wanted to give you another reason, even though this doesn't count as another letter. Cause I want your door covered in reasons for us to be together. So here it goes._

_Reason #5: You fall asleep in my arms. _

_That's not that good. But I feel pressured, and it's too early to think properly. I haven't even eaten my fruit loops yet, so you know it's early. Did you know that if you don't eat breakfast, your brain has trouble focusing? That's why I always tell you to at least have a piece of toast or something. Anyways, I hope it's an okay reason._

_P.P.S. You look adorable right now, drool on your pillow and everything. I was half-tempted to draw a mustache on you, but then I thought what if you didn't notice before you went shopping. That would be horrible. But also funny. Next time I'm doing it. _

_Britt._

Santana snorted as she folded the paper back up. Maybe this whole being in love thing really wasn't that bad after all. Maybe being in love was actually the best thing in the world. And Santana couldn't think of anyone else she'd rather experience all the stupid romantic shit with than one Brittany Susan Pierce.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you. All your words are unbelievable. Sorry for the delay, I've had a lot of unexpected problems come into my life, and I didn't want them to influence the direction of this story. I can't say it enough when I say how much I love reading your reviews, so thank you. And to the person posting the letters on tumblr as their own, please stop. I work hard to create this story. Again, thanks to my beta for putting up with my procrastination.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six - I Was Her First, And She Was Mine<strong>

"San, I…I can't…" Brittany panted. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as probing fingers worked their way down a tensed stomach.

"What happened to _with __feelings __it__'__s __better_?" Santana mocked. Licking her way up a flexed thigh. She smirked as she looked up at Brittany through hooded eyes.

"It is better, but my feelings are spent." Brittany groaned as Santana's fingers continued to manipulate their way across her lower abdomen. "I can't go another round," she whined, her hands gripping Santana's hair in a desperate plea. Her back squirmed against the mattress, indenting it in new places as Santana's relentless touching had her reeling.

"You're a dancer B. You were made to keep going. Your stamina is ridiculous," Santana purred against a milky inner thigh.

"And I think lasting this long is good enough. Seriously did you take an energy drink or sniff fairy dust or something? How are you not tired by now?" Brittany gasped, her hands still tugging on Santana's hair. Her heartbeat was erratic, hammering against her chest so loudly she was afraid it might break through. She felt like she would never get her breathing under control as Santana continued to shower her with feelings. It was beautiful. But exhausting.

Every time she had managed to come down from her high, Santana was right there with another lick or another finger, working her back up again. She'd peak and writhe, her breath coming out in pants. Santana would retreat and fix her hair with a lazy smirk. And before Brittany could even blink, Santana had maneuvered herself between pale and shaking thighs. Licking at moistened folds. Humming against creamy skin. Fingers pinching erect nipples.

Santana giggled at Brittany's reasoning. "No. I haven't taken any mind altering substances." Her lips found their way to Brittany's center, feeling the heat and moisture of their previous rounds. Her nose bumped against slick folds, her tongue flicking out to swipe at the lasting arousal. Taking in the scent and taste that was pure Brittany forced her to shudder, her nails digging into the flesh at Brittany's hips. She smiled, proud of the fact that she had done that. "I just can't get enough," she hummed before running her tongue over her work.

Brittany rolled her hips at the contact, trying desperately to free herself. "Please," she whined. "I seriously can't."

Santana caved at the utter adorableness coming from the top of the bed. She left another kiss at Brittany's center, giggling at the groan that came from Brittany's spent body. She dragged her lips across the crease of Brittany's hip, causing a whimpered shudder. She smiled against the creamy skin of Brittany's inner thigh as it trembled beneath her lips. Her eyes opened, and she noticed the whites of Brittany's knuckles as they clenched around the taunt fabric of balled up sheets.

She sat back on her calves between Brittany's shaking legs. She wiped at her puckered lips, watching as Brittany's eyes followed her every move. She smirked as she sucked her finger into her mouth, not wanting to waste any of the sweet and tangy that was Brittany. Another groan escaped the heaving chest beneath her as Santana's finger left her mouth. Her smiled never faded as her fingers ran through tangled hair and pulled it into a messy ponytail.

Santana's eyes raked over Brittany's shuddering beauty, watching her chest rise and fall in quick succession, and catching Brittany's half lidded and satiated eyes locked on the hands that had caused her current state. It was breathtaking. The way her cheeks had flushed. The way she licked her lips as they remained parted with gasping pants. The way the blues of her eyes had clouded to a sparkling grey. She was the perfect depiction of natural beauty.

Santana bent forward, kissing Brittany's hipbone before crawling up a sweaty torso. She settled herself into Brittany's side, her arm draping over a panting stomach, and her head resting against a heaving breast.

The sun dipped beneath the window, cascading the room into a dull glow. Like a Ferris Wheel at a carnival. The way all the lights swirl together as it turns, mixing into a singular glow of hazy color. Brittany felt like she was part of the ride, as her body whirled from one feeling to the next. A mixture of euphoria and exhaustion. Brittany giggled at the thought of her room smelling like a carnival as well. The way the sweat on their bodies mixed with the fruity scent of a plug-in air freshener. Brittany argued in her head that this was definitely better than an actual carnival.

Santana breathed in the clammy skin beneath her cheek, her heart fluttering in pure content. Her fingers began to trace soft circles on the underside of Brittany's chest. "Can we just lay here for a while?"

"We can't. My parents will be back soon from Kenzie's soccer game." Brittany smiled, her hand twirling brown hair between her fingers, trying to recapture the once pronounced curls of Santana's ponytail.

Santana groaned, her nose turning more into Brittany's flesh.

Brittany giggled, her arms wrapping around Santana's small frame and pulling her closer. Her fingers glided across Santana's humming skin, goose bumps rising in their wake. Brittany knew the softness of her fingertips over Santana's arm tickled her, but she couldn't tear herself away. Their comfortable silence was broken by the low grumble of Santana's stomach, and Brittany's giggle grew to a chuckle. "Someone's hungry."

"I can think of something I'd like to eat," Santana smirked against Brittany's chest.

"That restaurant is currently closed for business," Brittany's grip tightened around Santana's torso. Santana giggled, her breath hot against Brittany's skin. "Do you want to get something to eat? I'm sure my mom can make those pizza rolls we like when she comes home."

"No, it's okay. I think I'm gonna go for a run before the sun completely sets." She breathed, stretching and wrapping her worn limbs against Brittany's body.

"You have to eat silly." Brittany's hands tapped at Santana's chin to get her to look up.

"Well according to someone, I've already eaten plenty today." Santana purred. Her eyes locked with Brittany's as she grazed her teeth over a hardened nipple. The way it puckered and rubbed against her lips drove her crazy. And she couldn't help the way her lips easily wrapped around it.

Brittany moaned and her stomach tensed. She gripped Santana tighter, as if warning her she wasn't allowed to continue. "I'm starting to feel like that zebra on the TV." Brittany smiled when she noticed the quizzical look on Santana's face. "You know. Like how all those zebras drink from the muddy water right before a lion chases them and makes one his dinner. I feel like I'm your dinner right now." Brittany smirked at the lopsided grin on Santana's face and the darkness that covered her eyes.

Santana kissed at the curve of Brittany's breast before shifting her weight to move up the bed. The mattress creaked as her elbow dug into the spot right below Brittany's pillow. Her lips tasted the salty skin of Brittany's neck before they met an eager mouth. Brittany hummed her approval, her hands massaging the back of Santana's head.

"Please don't kill me like that lion San," Brittany uttered between hungered kisses. She caught the chuckle Santana let out between her own lips, eliciting another low moan as the vibration went through her.

"This lion only kills when the zebra won't play with it." Santana husked, nipping at Brittany's bottom lip.

Brittany wasn't dumb. She knew what Santana was doing. But as her arousal began to pull at her lower abdomen again. And her stomach tensed with anticipation as her hips naturally rolled upward. She decided to play along. "What game would the lion like to play?" Brittany bit back, pulling Santana's swollen lip between her own. Santana rewarded her with a guttural moan that came from the back of her throat.

Santana's hands began to roam, her fingers tapping lightly as they moved down the crevice between Brittany's breasts. "How much time do we have?" She breathed, her tongue hot against the flesh of Brittany's neck.

"I don't know. Minutes." Brittany panted, her hands still tangled in dark tresses, pulling loose the ponytail Santana had previously made.

Santana's tongue swirled around Brittany's ear lobe before sucking it between her lips. She released it with a wet pop, and the warm breath she let out tickled Brittany, sending a wave of shivers down her spine. "Lion needs more time," she husked. Her hands now tapping against the hardened skin of Brittany's stomach.

"I think lion needs to not be so greedy." Brittany giggled, her nails tracing down the outline of Santana's spine. It was Santana's turn to shudder as her arousal pooled between her legs.

"Zebra whines too much," Santana groaned into the crook of Brittany's neck. Her lips ghosted across smooth flesh as Brittany arched her neck to give her more access. As Santana moved down toward Brittany's collarbone, her eyes fluttered open and suddenly her movements stilled. She felt awkward continuing with big, round eyes staring at her. "Britt. What is wrong with your cat?"

Brittany turned her head to look where Santana was currently staring. Lord Tubbington sat perched on top of Brittany's desk, his eyes blinking in their direction. "Nothing." Brittany smiled. "That's where he likes to lay."

"It's fucking creepy," Santana whined, burying her face into Brittany's neck.

Brittany swatted playfully at Santana's back. "Don't swear in front of him. You've already taught him enough of your bad habits." Brittany's arms looped around Santana's waist, her heartbeat returning to normal.

Santana continued to stare at the watchful cat eyes, her arms coming to rest across Brittany's middle. "Does he get off on watching or something? Because that's pretty gross."

"You get turned on when we watch that Kim Kardashian video."

Santana blushed, her cheeks growing hot against Brittany's shoulder. "That's different," she defended. "He's an animal."

"You were a lion a minute ago." Brittany smirked, her fingers drawing unidentifiable shapes into Santana's back.

"Okay fine," Santana relented. "But you're like his mom. Most states would take him away because you exposed him to such mature activities." Santana smirked. She was happy to play along with the workings of Brittany's mind as her own pulse began to slow back to normal. The color in her cheeks had dimmed as her breathing had slowed. It was kind of hard to keep up her arousal when Lord Tubbs was watching her like she was gnawing Brittany's face off with each kiss.

But Brittany froze, her breath hitching in her throat. Santana's smile fell as she tilted her head to look up at Brittany. She immediately saw glossed over eyes and a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?"

"Can someone seriously take Lord Tubbington away from me for that?" she nearly cried. Her voice was soft and small, and it broke Santana. She immediately regretted taking the joke too far.

"Baby I was joking," Santana reassured, her hands coming up to wipe at unshed tears. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

Brittany nodded her head, sniffling as her own hands began to move over Santana's skin again. Santana leant forward and kissed the tip of her nose in a reassuring and apologetic gesture. Brittany wriggled her nose and a smile returned to her lips.

"How bout we get dressed before your family gets back, and I can make us something to eat." Santana offered. She knew Brittany could never refuse a bowl of mac-n-cheese.

"Really?" Brittany's spirits lifted. "I thought you were leaving?"

"I'd rather stay," Santana admitted in a moment of complete vulnerability. Her first instinct was always to leave after. To metaphorically run from everything that post sex conversations involved. To get away from the emotional intimacy afterward. But after looking in Brittany's eyes and seeing every ounce of love pooled there, Santana remembered this was different. This was Brittany. And she didn't have to run away anymore.

Brittany's grin grew until her ears lifted a little and her arms gripped tighter against Santana's back. Santana would kill to see that face everyday. All day. It never failed to cause her heart to swell and her stomach to flutter. Brittany could ask her to do anything, and Santana would do it as long as she was looking at her like that.

"So lets get dressed," Santana continued, tapping Brittany's shoulder as she began to lift off of her.

"Do we have to?" Brittany whined, even though her grip loosened.

Santana sat back on her knees in between Brittany's legs. She grinned down at Brittany as she twisted her body in a way that was supposed to be tantalizing, but just came off as adorable. "Well unless you'd like your mom to walk in on me cooking you dinner naked, I suggest we put some clothes on." Santana arched her eyebrows when Brittany smirked and started to consider actually doing it. "No!" Santana added for clarification with a light slap to Brittany's thigh.

Brittany watched as Santana stood and moved to retrieve her discarded clothes from various parts of the floor. She smiled when Santana bent over, full breasts draping toward the ground. She licked her lips before hopping off the bed like a kangaroo. Her arms were around Santana's waist before Santana even noticed her getting off the bed.

Santana jumped slightly, the underwear she had managed to find and pick up dropping back to the floor. Brittany's cold hands on her stomach were unexpected, but not unwanted. Brittany turned her and spun her in place to face her. Blue eyes smiled at rosy lips, and Brittany's heartbeat began racing again. Santana chuckled, her eyes watching Brittany's as strong hands fell over her ass and gripped the back of her thighs. She squealed when Brittany pinched her skin, her lips crashing against Brittany's with renewed desire. Santana didn't hesitate to wrap her legs around Brittany's hips as she was lifted off the ground. "I thought we were done," Santana mocked before pressing her lips against Brittany's like it was the only thing she knew to do.

Brittany shuffled her feet and slammed Santana against the nearest wall. The dresser next to them rattled against the wall, an unstable picture frame falling from the sudden jolt. She grunted as Brittany's mouth raked over her collarbone, her hands tangling in blonde hair. Santana's lips parted, and her joke was lost to a pleasured gasp.

"I'm done. But you're not," Brittany husked into Santana's shoulder before biting into the caramel flesh.

Santana whimpered, her hips bucking against Brittany's stomach. "What about your parents?" Santana groaned, her hands already gripping at Brittany's shoulder blades, pulling her closer.

"I'll just have to work extra hard," Brittany purred as she shifted Santana in her arms. She pushed Santana harder against the wall, flattening her back, so she could hold on with one hand. The other maneuvered between Santana's parted legs, and Brittany thrust two fingers in before Santana could argue further with lame excuses.

Santana's nails dug into Brittany's back, her head falling against the wall. "Fuck!" she panted.

"What did I say about swearing," Brittany grinned as she thrust again.

"Shit," Santana moaned, ignoring Brittany's teasing. One hand lifted above her head to grip at the wall for some type of grounding.

"I guess I'll just have to make you be quiet." Brittany uttered before crashing her lips against Santana's with another thrust of her hand.

* * *

><p>"How are your parents, dear?" Mrs. Pierce asked between spoonfuls of tomato soup. Santana had totally planned on making Brittany mac-n-cheese, but after Brittany had slammed her against the wall, and insisted on cleaning off with a warm shower, her parents had returned, and before Santana could offer, Brittany's mom had started to make grilled cheese and tomato soup for them.<p>

Santana covered her mouth as she swallowed a bite of her sandwich before it was completely chewed. She silently coughed at the way the large bite scratched at her throat. "Fine," she smiled, reaching for her glass of water. Damp hair clung to her shoulders. She didn't have enough time to do anything except comb through her hair before Brittany's mom was calling them for dinner.

"Brittany said she had a great time at the lake. Please thank your mom for me," Mrs. Pierce smiled.

"I want to go to a lake," Kenzie whined as she dipped her sandwich into her bowl of soup.

Mrs. Pierce answered her youngest, but Santana tuned them out. She glanced around the table at how all five place settings were at various stages of consumption. At how each member offered something to the conversation. How Mr. Pierce's eyes sparkled when Brittany told him that the neighbor's cat was trying to seduce Lord Tubbington. How Mrs. Pierce's smile never faltered, even after Kenzie complained that Wes's mom lets him eat cookies for dinner. Santana was filled with a feeling she never really felt before. It tugged at her heart and relaxed her body. It was a sense of family. A sense of belonging.

Brittany looked over at Santana, her hands resting on her cup and spoon unmoving, as her eyes roamed from one person to the next. Brittany grinned, loving how easily Santana fit into her family. She nudged Santana's calf with her foot under the table, causing Santana to jerk.

The look Brittany gave her, her eyes wide and lips curled, caused a faint blush to rise on Santana's cheeks. Brittany never failed to notice her. And there was a part of Santana that believed Brittany could read her mind. She seemed to always know exactly what Santana was thinking and feeling.

As they finished up their dinner, Brittany walked her dishes to the sink. Santana placed her spoon down, her bowl now empty, and began to stand to clear her spot as well.

"Sit dear. You're our guest." Mr. Pierce grinned, grabbing her dishes and carrying them to the sink for her.

"Britt, can we watch a movie?" Kenzie pleaded, her tiny fingers grasping Brittany's wrist and tugging.

"Kenz. Your sister has company," Mrs. Pierce warned as she ran a bowl under hot water before placing it in the dishwasher.

"Oh, she's fine. I'm the one intruding." Santana's hands played in her lap. It never occurred to her that Brittany actually spent time with her family. Like playing games and watching movies. She forgot that families actually did those things in the first place.

"Don't tell her that. She'll never leave you two alone." Mrs. Pierce smiled over her shoulder. "And you're never intruding. You're welcome here whenever you want."

Santana returned the smile as she got up to follow a now ecstatic nine-year old leading Brittany to the living room. Santana forgot how alike Brittany and Kenzie were. That blonde hair and those piercing blue eyes. The ability to be extremely excited about the smallest of things. It really was not Santana's fault she was in love. It was the damn Pierce genes.

Kenzie's movements were frantic as she raced to grab a DVD from the shelf, as if her sister and Santana would change their minds if she took too long.

Santana smiled as she settled herself on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as she leant against the armrest. She noticed Brittany sit in the recliner in the corner, and her heart dropped a little. She figured they could get their cuddle on during whatever cartoon movie Kenzie picked. But she quickly shook it off. She was not about to be one of those stupid people who had to be next to their significant other 24 hours a day. She was not about to let these newly released feelings turn her into a person who couldn't function by themselves. Plus, she didn't need Brittany getting the wrong idea. She still wasn't ready for them to be out and proud. And getting annoyed because Brittany didn't want to sit next to her during a movie would only confuse her.

Kenzie bounced over to the couch and cuddled against Santana's side. Santana gulped down her inner turmoil about Brittany and offered the widest of smiles she could muster to the munchkin. The opening credits of the Fox and the Hound danced across the screen, and Santana groaned. It was going to be a long night.

Santana looked over at Brittany to see if the movie was having the same reaction as it was on her. But a sneaky smile was curling upon Brittany's lips as she stood from the chair and left the room. Santana's brow furrowed for a split second before Brittany's light footsteps returned to the room. She sat back in the chair, a pen and paper in her hand.

"Britt, we're headed out now." Mrs. Pierce called as she appeared in the doorway, just as Todd and Copper began playing hide and seek. "Make sure she takes a bath and gets to bed on time," she continued, nodding her head in the direction of the giddy child curled into Santana's side.

Brittany nodded, her hand moving ferociously on the crumpled paper.

"And thanks for helping Britt babysit. We appreciate the night out." Mr. Pierce added as he walked up behind his wife.

"Don't thank me. This child's a saint." Santana tickled Kenzie's side, earning herself a high-pitched squeal.

"Make sure you tell your mom you're staying. I don't want her worrying about you." Mrs. Pierce smiled warmly as she grabbed her purse. Santana didn't think it was important to mention that her mom probably didn't care where she was. "Night sweetie. Don't keep the girls up too late," she cooed to her youngest, who answered with a silent nod. Another similarity between Brittany and her sister. When they were focused on something, they tuned the rest of the world out.

"And you two behave," Mrs. Pierce pointed at Brittany and Santana. "No boys. And no alcohol." She added for good measure. Santana's eyes met clouded blue, and she blushed. Brittany mocked her further by licking her lips before returning to her paper.

Brittany's parents slipped out the front door, and Santana forced her nerves to settle once she realized they were alone again. Well except for the kid sprawled next to her. She took slight comfort in the buffer the munchkin provided. With the added person in the room, Santana could continue to avoid the questions she knew Brittany was dying to ask. About her. About them. And Santana didn't have answers yet.

The movie continued and Santana's hands naturally found their way into thin, blonde hair. Her fingers played with it absentmindedly, as if it was the most natural thing she could do. She knew her and Brittany needed to talk about what had progressed between them. But she'd much rather avoid that conversation by busying her hands in similar, but not familiar hair.

She looked to Brittany and sighed. Her eyes were narrowed and focused. Her tongue was curled and pressed between thin lips as she chewed on it in concentration. Santana knew she didn't have a choice. Her heart had chosen, and she couldn't take it back. But she couldn't move forward either. She was stuck somewhere in the middle. She decided to ease her own uncertainty by bringing Brittany back to reality.

"Whatcha doing Britt-Britt?" She asked coyly, her fingers still stroking blonde strands.

Brittany's head snapped up like she was caught in the act of doing something she shouldn't be doing. "Nothing," she muttered, trying to shield the paper with her hands.

Santana smirked and acted like she was going to get up. "Let me see," she whined.

But Brittany forced the paper further into her lap. "It's not done yet." She pouted, her eyes pleading for Santana to stay where she was.

"Does that mean I get to see it when it's finished?" Santana played along. When Brittany didn't answer, she smiled wider. "Is it a letter?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise," Brittany whined. Her lip quivered in a small pout.

Santana suddenly felt bad for taking away Brittany's joy of surprising her just to mask her own problems. "I'll make sure to act surprised." Santana offered with a small smile as she turned her attention back to the movie, just as Kenzie tugged on her shirt for her to be quiet.

Brittany noticed how Santana's eyes had fallen slightly before she turned her head. They said more than her words could say. She was good at lying. She was good at pretending. She was good at acting. When she told Finn that sleeping with her would boost his rep, it didn't have anything to do with him. But Santana was good at making people believe whatever she wanted them to. Except Brittany. She always knew when Santana was lying. And she didn't know if she should be happy, sad, or plain worried at that fact.

She shook her head to tell herself that she was overreacting and turned her attention back to the letter and continued scribbling on the paper. Her tongue went back to rolling between her clenched teeth. She chanced a look up at the duo on the couch, and she could tell Santana was fighting her own exhaustion as her eyelids began to droop. Brittany stifled a giggle when Santana's head started bobbing on her shoulders.

As Brittany signed the end of the letter, she looked up to see the credits rolling on the screen. Her eyebrows scrunched and she wondered why no one had complained about the movie being over. Her eyes traveled to the couch, and they softened immediately. Her lips curled as she stared at the entwined lump of limbs sleeping soundly on the couch. One of Santana's arms supported her head, while the other draped over her sister's middle. Kenzie was curled into Santana's side, her head resting comfortably in Santana's lap. Brittany's grin grew, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of pure love and unhindered lust.

She loved seeing this side of Santana. The one that actually liked little kids, and watched Disney movies with them. The side that didn't care if her hair had plainly air dried, and now had frizzed from the air conditioner. Brittany loved when Santana didn't care what others thought of her or what they expected from her. She simply did what she wanted. And Brittany was torn between keeping this side of Santana all to herself, or standing on a table in the cafeteria and shouting it for the whole school to hear. Because she was pretty sure if the rest of them could see the Santana that she saw, they would all love her as well. But what if someone loved her just as much as she did? She didn't want someone taking Santana from her now that she finally had her.

Brittany placed the complete letter and the pen on the armrest of the recliner as she stood. She quietly walked over to the couch and untangled Kenzie from Santana's lap. She pulled the sleeping child into her arms and carried her toward her room. Tiny arms clung to her neck like a spider monkey as they walked, a slight snore escaping her parted lips.

Brittany tucked Kenzie into her bed and clicked the door shut. The main menu of the DVD played continuously on the television, providing a glowing hue of light for the darkened room. Brittany walked back toward the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of Santana. She smiled, content to simply watch Santana sleep. Her face was so relaxed, her lips slack and slightly parted. There were no worry lines framing her eyes. There were no wrinkles lacing her forehead. She was simply peaceful. And Brittany wondered why she couldn't always look like that. She wished she could share this Santana with the rest of the world because it was hard to see those constant worry lines. She never understood why Santana thought she had to please everyone else and play the role she thought everyone expected her to be. But she never realized that it had to be exhausting. She couldn't help but wonder if Santana ever got tired of it. She didn't want someone taking Santana from her, but at the same time, she didn't want Santana to be worried anymore.

She reached a tentative hand to tuck a stray hair behind Santana's ear. Her fingertips lightly grazed across smooth skin, ghosting Santana's cheek with a faint jolt of electricity. Santana stirred, her eyes blinking open in confusion as her limbs stretched out beneath her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Brittany whispered, her fingers stroking dark hair.

Santana looked around the dark room and continued to blink away the confusion. "I wasn't sleeping," she argued. "I was just resting my eyes." She lifted her hand to wipe at the small drool at the corner of her mouth.

Brittany giggled, her hand cupping Santana's cheek warmly. "Through the whole movie?" Brittany cocked her head, her lips lifting in the most teasing of smirks.

"It's not over." Santana continued, trying to support her ridiculous logic.

Brittany stroked her cheek, her fingers skirting over a prominent cheekbone. "I'm afraid you missed them fighting the bear and everything."

Santana shuffled to sit up, her arms stretching above her head. She looked to the now vacant spot next to her. "Where's the kid?" she mumbled through a yawn.

"Bed." Brittany answered, her eyes grazing over the faint flush of Santana's sleepy cheeks.

"What about her bath?" Santana asked as Brittany's hand left her cheek and fell to the skin of Santana's thighs.

"She can take it in the morning. Besides. I have something for you." She grinned, patting the tops of exposed thighs. Santana's eyebrows hitched as she watched Brittany stand and retrieve the paper from the chair's armrest. She handed the folded parchment to Santana before sitting back on the coffee table in front of her.

Santana smiled as she unfolded the letter. "This one is long." Her eyes skimmed the fluid handwriting that was very much Brittany-esque. The curl of her cursive writing, the slant of the letters, the way it all ran together near the end as she got tired.

"Well I had a whole movie to write it." Brittany blushed, her hands shifting in her lap.

Santana grinned as she pulled her legs underneath her and began to read.

_Letter Five ½._

_Dear Santana,_

_I'm taking a detour from what I was originally going to tell you because this movie reminded me of something. It's really cute the way Kenzie's curled into your side. You're good with her. You're gonna be a great mom! Don't freak out. I think it's cute._

Santana giggled at Brittany's ability to know when she would freak out over things that were not even real. Brittany's eyes softened as she watched Santana read, her hand returning to Santana's thigh as she began to trace patterns into her skin.

_Do you remember our first Halloween together? We decided we wanted to go as Disney Princesses. You went as Jasmine, and I went as Cinderella. Your dad took us around my neighborhood, since yours was too dangerous. Our pinkies were linked when we approached each door, and everyone thought we were sisters. Which again San, that would be gross now, but we loved it back then. _

Santana let out another chuckle as Brittany's fingers continued to skirt around her thigh, branding her with invisible markings she was sure she'd never be able to get rid of.

_Your mom was away for the evening, and after we were done, your dad took us back to your house. Do you remember how he made us hot chocolate while we played Go Fish! And then he let us stay up a little later to watch a movie. Do you remember what movie it was?_

_Your dad sat on the couch with us as we watched Fox and the Hound for the first time. Do you remember what you said? You squealed that you were like Todd and I was like Copper. How we could play together all day and not care about making other friends. Do you remember how upset you got when Todd went away? You said you'd never do that. That we'd always be friends. _

Santana hadn't realized she was crying over the remembrance of that night until Brittany's finger stroked her wet cheek. Santana's eyes snapped to Brittany's, taking in the warmth they provided. The promise that she should continue reading. Santana nodded before flipping the paper over.

_Do you remember what your dad said? He paused the movie and patted you on the shoulder and told you that you were right. That it shouldn't matter what the hunter thought. That Todd and Copper should have remained friends, despite their differences. _

Santana wanted to remind Brittany that he also said they couldn't blame the old lady for just doing what she thought was best. That she was just trying to protect Todd and Copper. But Santana kept her mouth shut and continued reading.

_Anyways, the movie just reminded me of that night with your dad and how you promised you'd always be my friend. Now back to our previously scheduled program (I always wanted to say that!)_

_Eighth grade. The year your boobs and my legs grew. We were part of the JV cheerleading squad, even though we were still in middle school. That made us pretty popular. Which I didn't really care about, but you told me it was important. _

_Ever since the night of that party before seventh grade, we had continued kissing, but you never allowed it to go further. I remember the time in your pool when I tried to untie your swimsuit and you slapped my hands away. My how things have changed. _

Santana stifled a giggle as the tear tracks on her cheeks dried. Brittany watched intently as Santana's emotions faded from one to the next. Like an Etch-a-Sketch. Like someone was painting one emotion, shaking if off, and starting again.

_We had a week off for Christmas vacation, and you came over to my house when it snowed that one day. My parents had the fireplace on, and we all watched how the Grinch stole Christmas. (I thought that was coming true last year when someone took the presents from the glee club. But then you told me that Christmas always comes. No matter what)._

_Anyways, you spent the night because the roads were bad, and after the movie we went up to my room. I kissed you first because your nose was still pink form playing out in the snow. We laid down on my bed, and when I wanted to touch your boobs, you told me to stop._

_Do you remember why? You said it was because that was something special. And you didn't want to ruin that for me. But I kissed your nose again and told you I wanted to. I think you thought I didn't really know what sex was yet. But San, the older girls on the squad were always talking about it. So I knew what it was. And I wanted us to do it together. To be each other's firsts._

Tears started leaking from Santana's eyes again, and she hated herself because of it. She was letting Brittany think that she was getting emotional because she was reading about their first time. But she was crying because she had lied about it being her first time. And she hated the fact that this was the one time Brittany wasn't able to see through the façade. Santana shook her head and wiped at her cheeks before she continued.

_We didn't know what we were doing. But we managed to find our way. It hurt at first, but I remember thinking it was like the best feeling ever. We found each other in a way that no one can take from us. We explored with prying fingers and eager tongues, and when I came I had no problem panting your name. You had a little blood on your fingers, and I got so scared. But you reminded me that that was supposed to happen. And then I was confused because I didn't have any on mine. But you told me sometimes it pops from other activities, and you kissed me. I remember that kiss more than any other. It was like, magical._

_You would later say it didn't mean anything. That it was just for us to know what to do with guys. And maybe you were right. Maybe we did have to do those things with guys in order for us to realize what we have. Because San, you never forget your first. Maybe it was just about getting off at that point, but I'm so glad it was you._

_I got to know you that way before anyone else. And you with me. _

_We'll always be connected. We'll always be a part of each other's lives._

_I'll always be yours. And you'll always be mine. Because we chose each other first._

_Just like Todd and Copper._

_Reason #6: You were my first, and I was yours. _

_Sincerely yours, _

_Brittany S. Pierce._

Santana's heart was racing. She felt cold and hot at the same time. She didn't know her hands were shaking until Brittany placed her steady ones on top of hers. "Why are you crying?" she asked so innocently. Santana's heart broke further. It shattered against her ribcage, reminding her that the lies she told because she didn't care back then, would kill the person sitting in front of her. If Brittany found out that she was not Santana's first, it would shatter her. It would take away everything Brittany believed about soul mates and their relationship. Brittany loved the fact that they had done everything together for the first time. To her, it was what made them special.

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but quickly snapped it shut. She couldn't form the words she wanted to say. She couldn't go back in time and change things. She just couldn't. Her eyes locked with Brittany's, before her head fell towards the ground. "Can we…can we go to your room?" she barely whispered.

Brittany's fingers stroked the back of Santana's knuckles as she nodded. When she realized that Santana was still looking at the ground and couldn't see her, she gave Santana's hand an extra squeeze. "Sure."

Santana swiped at the remaining tears on her cheek before standing, pulling Brittany with her. She gave Brittany a faint smile before turning and walking towards Brittany's room. Brittany watched as her head fell toward the ground and her hands locked in front of her. She started to follow, but realized she had to turn off the TV. Her feet skipped toward the lit screen and her finger pressed the power button with hurried force. She hurdled the coffee table as she exited the living room, racing down the hallway after Santana.

Santana walked into the familiar room and made her way to Brittany's bed in a haze. Brittany watched her curiously. Her eyebrows furrowed as she noticed the lack of emotion on Santana's face. She looked sick. Or like she was going to be sick. "Are you okay?" Brittany wondered, her eyes soft and questioning.

Santana looked up at her, forcing a smile upon her lips. "Take your clothes off." She breathed, reaching for the hem of her own shirt. She pulled the material over her head and dropped it to the floor next to the bed. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, her eyes never wavering from Brittany's curious ones.

Brittany watched as Santana's bra fell to the floor. She didn't understand why Santana was acting like she was in pain. But she didn't see the point in arguing when Santana asked for her to remove her clothes a second time. Brittany pulled her shirt over her head, revealing an already bare chest.

Santana sucked in a puff of air at the sight. Everything was clouding her mind and turning her logic into a leaky cauldron. Her heart told her one thing. Her hormones another. And the part of her brain that actually remained unaffected by all this emotional crap she had tried so hard to avoid, told her another. And they all mixed together at the back of her throat, fighting each other to be the one spoken aloud. Santana clamped her mouth shut, afraid of the part of her body that would win.

Brittany walked to the edge of the bed and knelt in front of Santana. Her eyes remained locked on dull brown orbs as her fingers reached for the button of Santana's jean shorts. They were soft and hesitant, and Santana knew she was confusing Brittany. She knew her actions and her words were contradicting each other. And she was sure her face wasn't doing a good job of hiding her emotions.

But Brittany never faltered. Her fingers undid the button, and they slowly lowered the zipper. She didn't know what was going on. But she could tell that Santana needed her. And that she could do. She could always ask questions later. Brittany stood to her feet and motioned for Santana to do the same. Brittany tugged at the waistband of Santana's shorts, and slowly lowered them to the floor. She straightened herself again before looping her fingers in the elastic of Santana's underwear.

Santana stood frozen. She felt Brittany's fingers burn her skin as they undressed her. She watched in silence as Brittany stripped herself of the rest of her clothes. She wanted to speak. She wanted to explain. She knew she was probably scaring Brittany. But she didn't know how. She didn't know what to say.

"Do you want to take a bath?" Brittany whispered. The hesitancy and pure fear shocked something within Santana, and she blinked her eyes to look at Brittany. The blue staring back at her was startling. Brittany was pleading for her to say something. For her to tell her what was wrong. And Santana cursed herself for making Brittany believe that she had done something wrong, when it was the complete opposite.

Santana shook her head and reached for Brittany's hands. "I just want to lay in bed with you." Santana's fingers stroked the back of Brittany's knuckles. It soothed her, and Santana wondered if she could somehow transmit what she was feeling through the simple gesture.

Brittany nodded in slight understanding and walked them both to her bed. She pulled back the covers and held out her arm for Santana to get in. As Santana maneuvered her way under the covers, Brittany walked back to her bedroom door and shut off the light. The street lamp outside her window provided enough light for her to find her bed. She stepped over the discarded clothes as she leapt into bed, the cool sheets engulfing her naked body like the rush of pool water after jumping in.

She scooted to the middle where Santana was curled into a ball. Her front molded to Santana's back, and her arm draped over Santana's middle, pulling her closer. She laid her head on Santana's shoulder, breathing in the scent of her own raspberry body wash from their shower earlier. She couldn't help the way her heart jumped as she enjoyed how she could smell a part of herself on Santana's skin.

They remained in silence. The slow, steady beat of their hearts providing the only sound as Brittany's breathing began to match Santana's. Her fingers traced light circles on the skin of Santana's stomach as she allowed the intimacy to wash over her. Sex was great. But holding Santana in this way. Like she was protecting her from the world. That was one of Brittany's favorite things.

"You would tell me if something was wrong, right?" Brittany breathed, the air tickling across the side of Santana's neck.

Santana was glad Brittany couldn't see her. Because she was sure her facial expression would have given her away. She knew Brittany could read her eyes like the back of her favorite cereal box. And she knew her eyes were betraying her right now. But she inhaled deeply and nodded instead. And when she felt Brittany's body relax behind her, a lone tear slipped from her eye as she curled further in on herself.

* * *

><p>Morning light slipped through the blinds of Brittany's window. Brittany stretched, yawning as her arm tightened around Santana. She felt Santana stir and she smiled against the bare skin of Santana's shoulder, kissing the smooth skin. "Morning."<p>

Santana blinked her eyes against the assaulting light. Her limbs stretched against Brittany's skin, and she felt the familiar touch of Brittany's breasts slide against her spine. She smiled, reveling in the feel. Until the previous night washed over her and her body froze. She shivered at the unexpected rush of emotions, and Brittany's hold tightened.

"Are you cold?" Brittany pulled the sheet around them, covering their waists and legs. She nuzzled her chin into the crook of Santana's shoulder. "Mmm. A girl could get used to this." She purred, her lips grazing the span of Santana's shoulder, imprinting the feel of Santana's skin on her lips.

Santana murmured incoherently and Brittany giggled. She loved when Santana tried to speak while she was still sleepy. Brittany's lips traveled toward Santana's neck when her bedroom door flung open, hitting the opposite wall with the sound of a gunshot.

Santana shrieked, gripping the sheet and pulling it over her head. She pushed her face into the pillow, wishing herself to become invisible.

"Mom!" Brittany muttered, her cheeks growing a dark shade of pink. She sat up on the bed, yanking the sheet up with her to cover herself.

"Uh," her mom gasped, standing frozen in the doorway. Her eyes were wide, but kind, and Brittany immediately relaxed. Mrs. Pierce could see the shaking form of Santana's body beneath the sheet, and her demeanor softened. "It's okay." Mrs. Pierce quickly added. "Why don't you two put some clothes on and meet me in the kitchen so we can talk before your sister wakes up." She smiled at her daughter before exiting the room and closing the door.

Brittany breathed a sigh of relief and turned toward Santana. She noticed the shaking and pulled back the sheet. "San, it's okay. She said it was okay." Brittany smiled, stroking the skin of Santana's trembling arm.

"No it's not. She just wants me to have clothes on before she kicks me out of her house." Santana almost cried, her face buried in her hands. She felt like she was going to be sick. Every possible horrific scenario played in her head, and the thought of Mrs. Pierce forbidding her from ever seeing her daughter again had her shaking. This was why she always ran afterwards. She never wanted to get caught.

"Baby, relax. Everything's going to be fine." Brittany tried to reassure, leaning down to kiss Santana's shoulder. Santana pulled away from the touch, leaping from the bed with the sheet securely wrapped around her. It left Brittany naked, and Santana turned away at the sight. She felt ashamed. And suddenly being naked with Brittany felt like the most shaming experience she could have ever done. Every joke and hushed whisper about how wrong being gay was ran through her ears. Every insult Mrs. Raezer had said at the cabin rang clear. And the act of being caught made it seem like what she was doing with Brittany was wrong.

"Everything is not fine." Santana panicked, moving around the bed to find her clothes. "Your mom just walked in on us naked in your bed." She continued in a hushed anger. She turned her back to Brittany as she pulled on her underwear, keeping the sheet draped over her back. With everything from last night and what had just happened, Santana was emotionally spent. She didn't know how to cope with it. And all she knew to do was coil in on herself and run.

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows at the way Santana was shielding her body. She slid off the bed and walked toward Santana as the latter pulled her shirt over her head. Brittany's hands gripped Santana's waist, holding her firm, and Santana stopped her frantic movements. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana, her head pressed against the back of Santana's shoulder. "I promise. Everything is going to be okay. I know you're scared, but you don't have to be."

Santana sighed, her hands finding Brittany's splayed on her stomach. She laced their fingers together and squeezed tightly. "How do you know?" She breathed, her voice shaking.

"Because you'll always have me. No matter what." Brittany breathed into the shirt covering Santana's shoulder blade. "And she totally loves you San."

"She loves me as her daughter's best friend. Not the girl who fucks her daughter under her roof." Santana groaned, her head falling back against Brittany.

"I think you're being paranoid. My mom loves everyone. She's the one who made sure Kenzie apologized to Mr. Jenkins after she messed up his garden. She said that that was the last thing he loved after his wife died. She loves you. Now she can love us together." Brittany smiled, nudging Santana's back with her hips.

Santana nodded, her eyes downcast. "Put some clothes on Britt," she sighed. Her mind was racing. She tried to keep up with the million and one things plaguing her emotions, but she couldn't. They tugged and pulled her in different directions, and she didn't trust herself to speak about how she was feeling because she wasn't sure she could even put it into words. She felt like she was being torn in half, and all she wanted to do was go back to the night in her bed when Brittany had lit the room with candles and they had made love. She wanted to go back to the way Brittany held her that night, and how her fingers found her aching center right before they fell asleep.

Brittany kissed Santana's cheek before removing her arms from around Santana's waist. She bent to the ground and picked up her clothes, pulling each article on as Santana continued to stand in the middle of the room. She watched Santana's face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what she was feeling. She knew Santana was trying to hide, and she prayed that she wouldn't push her away. But when no emotion flitted across once love-lit eyes, she knew Santana had already retreated into herself.

Santana tried to calm her shaking hands as they walked toward the kitchen. She settled on keeping them clasped in front of her. Mrs. Pierce sat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in front of her. She looked up when she heard their footsteps on the tiled floor. Brittany led because Santana didn't trust herself as she eyed the front door. But the sound of Brittany's voice pulled her feet toward her instead. They sat down opposite Mrs. Pierce, but Santana refused to look at her.

"Ladies." Mrs. Pierce began, fumbling with the handle of her coffee mug. She cleared her throat, the tension in the room wafting over the three of them. She looked up at the two girls sitting across from her. Brittany's eyes remained fixed on her, and all her mom could see was pure trust. When she looked over at Santana, whose eyes remained on her clasped hands in her lap, all she saw was pure fear.

"First I want to repeat what I said earlier. It's okay." Mrs. Pierce sighed, smiling at her daughter who returned it without hesitation. Santana remained frozen. "Santana, honey…"

Santana looked up at the woman who spoke directly at her. She didn't realize she was crying until tears fogged her vision. "I'm sorry," she hiccupped, wiping at her eyes.

"Oh honey," Mrs. Pierce smiled, moving from her place to where Santana sat. She scooped the fragile girl into her arms and rocked her. Squeezing her in the warmest embrace Santana had ever received.

That was all it took for Santana to break. "I'm so, so sorry. Please don't…don't hate me," she sobbed. Her body shook with each mangled sob, shaking Mrs. Pierce in the process. Mrs. Pierce squeezed tighter as Santana's plea sounded like it cracked her chest in two. She tried to get her to calm down by rubbing up and down her shaking back.

"Baby, can you go grab the Kleenex from the bathroom," Mrs. Pierce asked her daughter over Santana's shoulder. Brittany nodded as the legs of her chair squeaked against the kitchen floor.

Santana continued to cry into Mrs. Pierce's shoulder. Everything she had managed to bottle up spewed like a broken dam. She couldn't hold it in. She was tired. And she honestly couldn't fight anymore. She didn't care if she looked pathetic and vulnerable. The warm embrace of Mrs. Pierce told her that it was going to be okay, and even if it was just for the moment, Santana wanted to wholeheartedly believe.

"Why do you think I would hate you sweetie?" Mrs. Pierce asked, cupping the side of Santana's face as she pulled from her hug. Brittany returned with the box of tissues, and her mother took one and began to wipe at Santana's cheeks. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Brittany sat down next to Santana and began to rub her back. Her own tears had formed in her eyes, but for an entirely different reason. She was ecstatic. Getting caught in bed was not the greatest of mornings. But the way her mother was responding, that was exactly what they needed. What Santana needed. She needed to know that not everyone would hate her. She needed to know so they could finally be happy. Together.

Mrs. Pierce rubbed Santana's arm before she made her way back to her seat. Brittany immediately pulled her into her side, her arms naturally wrapping around her like a visible shield. Santana's sobs turned to hiccups as her embarrassment of breaking down grew. She wiped at her cheeks before looking back up at Mrs. Pierce across the table.

Mrs. Pierce looked from Santana to her daughter, her curled lips never fading. "You have no reason to hide who you are." She smiled, her eyes locked on Santana's. "Love is love. And I understand not everyone feels the same way. But under this roof, that's how it is." She reassured, picking up her mug and bringing it to her lips.

Santana gulped back the dry air in her throat. She felt like the kid in the water when he sees Jaws coming toward him. She entered a form of shock at the way Mrs. Pierce firmly stated she didn't hate her. And better yet, that she was _accepting _her_._ Santana was having a hard time believing.

"But I do think we need to reevaluate the rules of the house," Mrs. Pierce added, placing the hot mug back on the table. "I don't have a problem with the relationship. But I'm not naïve. I think a new open door policy is in order." She winked at her daughter who responded with a giggle.

Santana sat and watched. She couldn't speak. Her brain was misfiring with everything the last few days had offered. She was glad Mrs. Pierce was responding this way. It was a relief. But it only reminded Santana of everyone else who wouldn't respond with such kind words. Mainly the woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally just like Mrs. Pierce loved Brittany.

Mrs. Pierce looked at the unmoving features of Santana's face. Her eyebrows remained hitched, causing rows of worry to etch their way on her forehead. She was so scared, and Mrs. Pierce wondered how one so young could be so fearful of the world. "Why don't you two go get ready, and I'll take you girls out for lunch." She offered, her eyes soft and full of love.

Brittany squealed and pulled Santana from her chair and up the stairs before Santana could even blink. As soon as their feet met plush carpet, Santana was engulfed in Brittany's strong arms, her excited squeals ringing in her ear.

"See San, I told you. Everything's great." Her grip tightened, shaking the tiny girl in her arms with pure excitement.

"Britt stop," Santana almost screamed. She had finally found her voice, and it begged to be heard. She struggled from Brittany's grasp and stepped back to create some space.

Brittany's smiled faded as if Santana had slapped it from her face. "Why…why are you upset? You should be happy. She doesn't care San. We can be together." Brittany shuffled her feet, pleading with her eyes for Santana to see the good.

Santana swallowed. Her heart begged her to do anything to put that smile back on Brittany's face. But her mind was telling her to put more space between them. She felt like she was being ripped from the inside, and not in the good way. "Stop!" She screamed to her racing and conflicting emotions.

But Brittany thought she was talking to her, and the outburst forced her to take a few, shaking steps away from Santana. "San…"

"I'm happy that your mom loves you no matter what Britt. That…that she's okay with us," Santana motioned with her hand at the space between them. "But everything is far from fine. This…this is just the beginning."

"Exactly." Brittany's voice rose, her smile creeping back on her face. "This is the beginning of us finally being together."

Santana shook her head. "You don't get it Britt. The world out there," she motioned toward the window. "Is not like your mom. People out there care. And they don't like it."

"Who cares what other people think?" Brittany's eyes lowered, her hands fidgeting at her sides. She could feel Santana pulling away again. But she didn't know how to stop her.

"I do! Britt, do you know what happens to people who are gay in America? They get bullied. They get treated differently. They're made to feel like they're unequal to the rest of society. Is that what you want?" Santana begged Brittany to understand where she was coming from. Santana just wanted to protect Brittany from every cruel thing that was going to come their way the minute they announced their relationship.

"No I don't want that, but I'm never going to apologize for who I am Santana. My mom taught me to always be proud to be different." Brittany looked back up at Santana, the corner of lips rising in a small shrug.

"Well not everyone can live in a world of black and white Britt. You got lucky with the parents you were dealt. But I live in a world of grey. It's not as easy as you make it out to be." Santana huffed. She tried to calm her anger. It was unfair to take it out on Brittany just because she was scared of what the world thought of her. But she couldn't stop. Everything was mixing and falling out of her mouth before she could stop it. "You don't understand."

"Then help me understand." Brittany pleaded, taking a hesitant step in Santana's direction. "Don't pull away from me. Not after the other night." Brittany's voice was soft as she took another step toward Santana.

Santana sighed, exhausted. She didn't flinch or pull away when Brittany's hands grazed hers before clasping them tight. Her words were calming. Promising. And for the first time, Santana thought that maybe as long as she had Brittany fighting with her, the world wouldn't be so bad.

Until Brittany spoke again.

"We were each other's firsts, and we'll be each other's lasts." Brittany smiled, gripping Santana's hands with every ounce of love she could muster. Hoping to transfer the sentiment through their entwined skin.

Santana's heart stopped. And she was reminded of all the ways she was not good enough for Brittany. Her eyes snapped closed and she pulled her hands from Brittany's.

"I'm sorry…I…" She stuttered, bending to grab her bag from the ground.

"Please don't leave," Brittany pleaded, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears.

"I just…I need some time." Santana almost cried. She sniffed back the salty emotions and looked at Brittany one last time. "I just need some time Britt." And with that she turned on her heels and left the Pierce residence without another word.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So, let's just pretend that this story was on a mid-season hiatus, and all will be forgiven :) No, THANK YOU for all the reviews and kind words, and those that kept asking for more. There were reasons, but they don't matter anymore. I hope everyone is still interested, and I hope you like where I'm going to take this story. Thanks again to my amazing beta, who constantly makes me want to write better.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven - I Was Made To Love You<strong>

Santana wasn't sure how she managed to get home, but she was more than thankful when her shaking hands put the car in park in front of her house. Her eyes were sore, and when she looked in the rearview mirror at her reflection, they were red and puffy, and Santana was surprised she could still see out of them. She wiped at them furiously, trying to get rid of all the physical evidence that had transpired.

She sniffed and removed the last of her tear tracks with the bottom of her shirt, the fabric scratching at her skin in a semi-soothing manner. And she just looked at herself. She looked pathetic. She looked miserable and lost.

She was so confused. And she was so sick of being confused. Even if she was lying to herself, last year seemed so much easier. She didn't want to have to pretend to be into Puck, or watch Brittany kiss Artie, but she couldn't deny the fact that it seemed easier than this. At least she wasn't crying every day, or worried that her parents would disown her.

She blew out a puff of air, desperate to calm herself. This wasn't the end of the world. Plenty of people could live and be happy being gay. Look at Ellen, or that Neil Patrick guy. She could do this.

But what if she couldn't? What if Brittany's mom called her mom to make sure she was okay, and her mother killed her, or banished her for bringing shame to the family? What if she could never come out, and Brittany left her because she couldn't wait anymore? What if she did come out and Brittany realized how much of a bitch she really was, and left her anyway? Then she would be gay and alone.

Santana shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. This was not her. This was not the Santana Lopez that had most of the school scared of her. This was not the Santana Lopez that fought tooth and nail for the top of the pyramid, literal and figurative.

Santana looked at herself once more, and she noticed the fleck of gold in her eyes. She hadn't seen that in months. A small smirk crept to her lips.

No more.

She was not going to be a crying loser anymore. Only people who had nothing going for them cried all the time, like Berry.

She straightened herself in her seat, and her smile grew. Parts of her were screaming at her, telling her not to do this. But she shoved them deeper within herself.

It was time for a change. And there were only two ways she could go about it.

She looked down at her phone and noticed the three missed calls and four texts from Brittany. Until she could figure out what to say, she figured ignorance was bliss at the moment. She turned off her phone, tossed it in her purse, and hopped out of the car.

The first thing she needed was a shower, for multiple reasons. The rest could wait.

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><p>Brittany came down the stairs, still dressed the way she was when she left her mom in the kitchen earlier that morning.<p>

Her mother turned around, a broad smile on her face when she heard someone enter the room. "Are you girls ready…" Her words died when she saw Brittany's saddened face, and the absence of her partner in crime. "What happened? Where's Santana?" her mother slowly approached her daughter, her smile fading to a concerned frown. She realized it was one of the first times she had seen Brittany upset. Her oldest daughter was always happy. It was one of her most charming qualities. It was a little nerve wracking to see her so visibly upset.

"Mom, can I talk to you?" Brittany's voice was soft and watery, full of unshed tears. Her eyes were hesitant and nervous, flicking from the floor to her face in rapid succession, like a frozen deer sensing danger, trying to figure out where it's coming from. "I need some advice. And I know I don't normally talk to you about this kind of stuff, but I don't understand. And when I usually don't understand something, Santana helps me…but…"

"What don't you understand?" Her mother asked carefully, her hands touching Brittany's softly in an effort to keep her from picking at her nails.

"Santana." Brittany practically whispered, her eyes lowering to the ground.

"Ahh." Her mother breathed, understanding dawning on her instantly. Her hands gripped Brittany's tighter, comforting. "What happened?"

"She's…scared. Like really scared. And she won't let me help…" Brittany stuttered, her voice breaking with the tears she so badly wanted to shed. She's not one to usually over think things. She's a doer. But with Santana, she gets confused when Santana over thinks, and she doesn't know how to help, or what to do, or how to think. And it's a little overwhelming sometimes.

"Honey, I don't think you can help." Mrs. Pierce's face softened and fell a little, offering a shy frown. That's not what Brittany wanted to hear. "But you can show her you're there for her." She offered instead, squeezing Brittany's hands. A hesitant smile formed on her face as she tried to comfort her daughter the best way she could. She had an idea what Santana was probably going through, but it didn't make it any easier to help her daughter.

"I have. I mean, I'm trying." Brittany breathed. That's the problem. She has tried. But she doesn't know what to do anymore.

"She loves you though. Just give her time to come around." Her mother cooed, trying desperately to get Brittany to calm down. The situation with Santana and her fears, which her mother could only guess centered around her relationship with her daughter, was not going to be resolved today.

"I know she loves me. That's not what I'm worried about." Brittany stammered, her feet shifting beneath her. Her mother waited patiently, her finger stroking against Brittany's wrist. Brittany looked back up, and seeing the love and trust in her mother's eyes, she blurted the most honest thing she's ever said. "She doesn't love herself the way that I love her, or even the way that she loves me." Brittany sighed, and the tears that she had been holding in finally began to fall.

Her mother pulled her in and wrapped her arms around her, her hands rubbing up and down Brittany's back. She didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't lie and say it wasn't true, and she couldn't agree and say it was true, because she honestly didn't know. All she could do was comfort her daughter, and hope more than anything that she wouldn't give up. That the messed up world they live in wouldn't ruin something that made her daughter so happy. That Santana would be okay, and realize that so many people love her. She just hoped, and as her daughter quietly sobbed against her shoulder, she promised she would do anything in her power to make it happen.

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><p>Santana's bare feet padded through the foyer on her way to the kitchen. Her glass clanked against the granite countertop as she reached for the refrigerator. She sighed at the emptiness it contained before reaching for the pitcher of lemonade. As the pale, yellow liquid filled her glass, the mail flap on the front door opened. Weighted envelopes fell to the wooden floor as Santana placed the pitcher back in the fridge.<p>

Santana brought the glass to her lips and took a sip as she walked back toward the living room. She eyed the envelopes on the floor, a pink one clashing with the other white ones. She sighed, her shoulder slumping like they were carrying an elephant. Santana rolled her eyes at the insinuation her mind screamed at her. Her eyes and lips lowered, a clear depiction of defeat. She bent and picked it up, her name scrawled in cursive across the front. She ignored the movie playing on the TV and moved toward the stairs.

Santana set her glass down on her desk as she fumbled with the pink envelope in her hand. It felt heavy and hot, like it burned her fingers just touching it. She turned it over, her lips pulled together in a tight line. She released a deep exhale, dropping the envelope onto her desk. It landed on top of a pile of other unopened letters. She felt defeated. She felt exhausted. And mostly, she felt guilty.

She eyed the envelopes like they were going to ambush her. Like they were all screaming at her and telling her how scared she was. She fought the urge to rip them up and throw them away. Brittany deserved better. She deserved more than this. More than her.

She had successfully ignored Brittany for a week. A full week. And everyday, a new letter had appeared in their mail. Everyday she received at least three phone calls, a good morning text, a good night text, and many in between. And for a full week, she hadn't replied with anything. She didn't know how, or what to say, and she honestly felt sick for what she was doing to Brittany. Because god, Brittany did not deserve it.

But Santana was scared. It felt like everything was happening too fast, and she was struggling to hang on. Like a runaway horse, pulling her against her will, as she tried to remain in the saddle. She didn't want to have to deal with this right now, she wasn't ready. If Brittany's mom knew, it was only a matter of time before everyone else did, and Santana's throat closed at that possibility.

Santana grabbed a pen from her desk and tore a corner off the college application her mother had placed there. The pen violently ripped across the paper before she walked to her closet and taped it below the others.

_She deserves better than me. _

Santana eyed it, sickness and faux confidence pooling and mixing together in the pit of her stomach. Her cheeks clenched tight, a small dimple signaling her defeat as her lips set in a thin line. She felt herself breaking. Her resolve started to fade, draining from her face like water down an unclogged drain. The idea alone terrified her. She honestly couldn't imagine a life without Brittany, and she hated herself more for being so selfish. She should let her go. She should allow Brittany to fall in love with someone else. Someone who would give Brittany everything she deserved.

But she couldn't let her go. Shaky fingers tore the newest paper from the closet door and crumbled it in the palm of her hand. The words burned into her skin like a tattoo. She tossed it into the trashcan next to her desk. She ripped open the newest envelope, yanked out the letter inside, and began reading.

She read about their first middle school dance, and how they got ready together, and how Brittany had kissed her cheek at midnight because she wanted Santana to feel like Cinderella. _Reason: You're Cinderella and I'm Princess Charming._

She ripped open the other six envelopes, reading each letter as her eyes swelled and leaked with her heartache.

She read about the time Brittany got scared during a thunderstorm in elementary school, and how Santana had built her a fort in her bedroom out of blankets and pillows to comfort and protect her from the storm. _Reason: When I'm scared, you're my safe heaven._ Santana knew she meant haven, but it was somehow so much better with Brittany's choice of word.

She read about the first time her and Brittany baby sat Kenzie, and how they played house and pretended they were both her mommies, even though Brittany argued that one had to be the daddy, so of course Santana relented and gave Brittany what she wanted. _Reason: You'd give me the world if I asked you to. _Which was quickly followed by Brittany telling her she would never ask her to because that would be mean to everyone else.

She didn't stop herself from openly sobbing, her chest wracking and heaving as she continued to look over the words Brittany had written. Written every day she had so blatantly ignored her because she couldn't get her own shit together. But Brittany never faltered. The letters still came. The texts still came. The phone calls still came.

She read about Brittany's first motocross practice, and how Santana had hid behind her hands the entire time, nervous that Brittany was going to kill herself, or worse, maim her immaculate body. _Reason: When I hurt, you hurt. _

She read about the time Santana got her wisdom teeth out, and how Brittany stayed with her afterwards, even though she was so loopy and high on painkillers. Brittany said she had told her this story about a princess in a castle, but Santana has no recollection of that, and she began to cry harder at the fact that Brittany had been treating her like a princess from the first day they met. _Reason: We take care of each other when we're sick._

She read about the time they went to the beach together with Brittany's family, and how they had tanned all day, and flirted with the boys on the boardwalk at night. That vacation was also the first time they had used tongue during sex, and Santana remembered how hard they tried to be so quiet in the beach house, so they wouldn't wake the rest of Brittany's family. _Reason: You taste delicious, and you said I taste yummy, therefore our taste buds like each other. _

Santana's vision was blurred, her tears easily falling down her cheeks, rolling over her lips, and down her chin, before they fell beneath her. Some landed on the letters, creating clear dots across Brittany's handwriting. She wiped at her eyes furiously, sniffing back tears as she reached for the last envelope.

But she started crying harder, not stopping herself from letting out whimpered gasps as she read Brittany's recap of their threesome with Puck, Brittany's first time with a guy. Brittany's words told of how caring and gentle Santana was during the whole thing, and how afterward, Santana had held her to make sure she was okay. _Reason: You make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, even when we're not alone, you make me feel special. _

But all Santana could remember from that night is how she had used Puck and Brittany to masquerade her inner turmoil. And it hurt. Cause she was still doing the same thing. Maybe not literally, but she was still running, and she was still using Brittany to a certain degree.

All seven letters contained seven more reasons. But she needed a break. She dropped the last letter on her desk, and walked to her bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes pink and her mascara running down her cheeks like war paint. She turned on the faucet, lowered her face to the sink, and splashed the warm water across her cheeks. She took shaky, unsteady breaths as she tried to calm herself down.

She towel dried her face, the warmth in her cheeks from crying fading dramatically. She made her way back to her desk, and read each of the reasons again, writing them down on separate pieces of paper like she had previously done with her own stupid reason of why they shouldn't be together.

She taped them up on her closet door, scattered across the wood with the others. They told a story, and Santana knew Brittany deserved the truth. Because if she was willing to prove to Santana that their love was worth the struggles, by retelling their past in the form of letters, then the least Santana could do was tell Brittany the truth, and just hope that it wouldn't ruin everything they had built together.

Her back straightened as she walked towards her desk, but the slamming of the front door caught her attention, and she raced back to her closet and shut the door. She checked her appearance in her mirror, laughing at the slight puffiness around her eyes, and the messy bun on the top of her head. She knew her mother would probably have a comment for her choice of mesh shorts and white tank top as well.

As she approached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear the slamming of glass against the kitchen counter, the clank of ice, and the swirl of liquid as her mother poured. When the glass was lifted from the counter, and slammed back down as more liquid was poured, she knew her mother was drinking. Which meant she was in a bad mood, and she honestly wasn't in the mood for it.

But as she turned to retreat back up the stairs, her mother appeared in the doorway, a glass in her hand. "There you are." She sneered, and Santana knew this wasn't going to end well. Maybe this wasn't her mother's first drink, and she could just go upstairs and she'd forget all about the fight she obviously wanted to have. But as she rolled her eyes to go upstairs, her mother stepped towards her. "Where are you going?"

Santana huffed and turned back around, her arms crossing over her chest. They tiptoed around each other, but they usually never fought. Unless her mother was drinking. Which didn't happen very often. But when it did, Santana usually tried to stay out of her way.

But the way her mother's eyes were set and lowered, her lips pressed tight and curled, Santana knew she wasn't going to be able to walk away any time soon. "I'd rather not listen to all the ways I've disappointed you just because someone pissed in your coffee." Santana wished she could take back the words as soon as she said them, because her mother's eyes lit with fire. And Santana stumbled backwards a few feet, the back of her heels hitting the bottom step.

"Excuse me?" Her mother practically snarled. She stepped forward, her designer heels stomping against the wood flooring like a loud bell. "Don't talk back to me young lady." Her finger stretched outward, pointing in Santana's face, inches from her nose, and Santana knew she should have kept her mouth shut. "This is my house, and if you aren't satisfied, you can leave."

She wasn't making sense, and Santana knew she obviously had been drinking long before she came home. A part of her wondered what had happened that was so awful to make her mother start drinking in the first place. She knew her mother would forget and regret everything she was saying, but Santana always wondered what her mother really thought of her. She guessed it was the masochist in her. And she knew alcohol always helped people spill the truth.

So she squared her shoulders and waited, her eyes watching her mother's intently. She expected to be lectured about quitting Cheerios, and investing all her time with the glee club. She expected her mother to comment on her appearance, and the fact that she had been moping around the house for the past week. She expected her mother to yell about everything really, but what her mother actually did was very unexpected.

Her mother started crying, stormed past Santana, and slammed her parents' bedroom door closed.

And Santana stood frozen. What was she supposed to do? Her mother never cried. She drank more than she cried, and even that was minimal. It was odd, and something snapped in Santana's stomach.

Santana didn't want to be like her mother. Cold and closed off from things that didn't seem valuable in her eyes. Judgmental to the point that nothing would ever live up to her expectations. In a relationship where she hardly spent any time with the person she loved.

She wanted to tell Brittany the truth, mostly because Brittany deserved it. But also because Santana was getting tired of running. She felt like she had to lie to cover up old lies, and she was getting lost in all the uncertainty. She was tired of putting on a mask when she didn't need to in front of Brittany, because she had made it clear that she loved Santana for who she was. Flaws and all.

Santana hopped up the stairs, shuffling the papers on her desk to find a new sheet. And she wrote. She wrote everything she needed to say and more. And by the time she was done, her fingers were cramped and throbbing, there was a trace of tears in her eyes that had not fallen, but most importantly, she was smiling. Because she had finally done the right thing.

She was breathing fast, and she was scared shitless. Brittany had to know how she truly felt. Her heart was pounding against her chest as she threw on some flip-flops and ran back down the stairs. Her hands were shaking as she tried to put the keys into the ignition. She looked disgusting, and she was in desperate need of a shower, but it couldn't wait.

She didn't want to end up like her mother. She couldn't. She had to fight.

She drove faster than she probably should have, and almost ran over a squirrel as it jumped across the road, but she made it to Brittany's house in ten minutes. She threw the car into park, and raced to the front door, making sure to calm her nerves before ringing the doorbell. She didn't want to seem too desperate.

Mrs. Pierce opened the door with wide, happy eyes. But upon seeing Santana's disheveled state, they fell instantly. "Santana." Her voice was full of concern, and Santana cringed at the thought of Brittany crying to her mother because she had been an idiot.

"Is Brittany here…I…I need to give her something." She panted, her eyes exploring Mrs. Pierce's, hoping to find that she was still loved even though she had treated her daughter like shit.

"Yeah, she's in her room." Mrs. Pierce nodded, and stepped aside for Santana to enter. And then her feet were racing across the floor of the Pierce house, trying not to run into anything as her nerves carried her to Brittany's room. She reached it, door closed, and breathed deeply.

She was beyond nervous, and she felt incredibly sick. Like her stomach was falling, as if on a never-ending roller coaster. She lifted her hand, hesitated, and then knocked.

"Come in." Brittany called so quietly, not knowing who was on the other side.

But when Santana pushed the door open, Santana knew Brittany wasn't expecting her. Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide and bright. She closed it and opened it a few times, obviously trying to decide what to say. She set her computer on the bed next to her, and crossed her legs underneath her. "Hi." She whispered, a mixture of happiness at Santana's presence, and sadness at Santana's unexplained absence.

"Hey." Santana breathed, her heart still hammering in her chest like a drum. She stepped forward a little, barely in the room before closing the door behind her. But she remained by it, not wanting to intrude any further. "I...um…I have something for you." Santana rambled, outstretching her arm with the letter in her hand.

Brittany eyed it, narrowing on it before smiling softly. Her eyes were bright blue, and her hair was different. Santana wondered if she might have gotten a hair cut. Which only caused her more pain, because Santana should have known whether or not Brittany had gotten a hair cut.

Brittany slowly slid off her bed and stood next to it, fixing her shorts as she pulled them from between her thighs where they had bunched. Santana's eyes flickered to them, and she quickly averted her gaze when she felt she didn't deserve to look there right now.

Brittany stalked toward her, her movements so graceful and beautiful, that Santana cursed herself for denying her eyes the privilege of seeing Brittany for a whole week.

She felt really weak as Brittany's fingers lightly touched her hand as she grabbed the letter. Brittany's smell was invading her nose, and all her senses were in overdrive as they wrapped themselves in everything that was Brittany. She needed to sit down, or leave, or something before she passed out from an overdose.

"I can leave…" Santana began, pointing toward the door.

"No." Brittany practically shouted, as she looked up from the paper. "Please, stay." She breathed a lot quieter, shuffling back toward the bed as she unfolded the letter.

Santana looked nervously around the room, trying to find a place to sit as Brittany basically read her heart and soul. She felt suddenly very naked, and very vulnerable, and she really needed to sit down. She walked toward Brittany's desk and sat on her chair, facing out the window because she really couldn't watch Brittany read it.

Brittany curled her legs back underneath her and began reading, her own heart beating rapidly against her ribs, nervous at what Santana had to say after not hearing from her for a week.

_Brittany,_

_I love you. I love you so much, and I know I don't show it all the time, but I do. Please don't ever doubt that. _

_But do you know what it's like watching the light fade from your eyes? And worse, knowing I'm the reason it has?_

_I'm so scared. You have this hold on me, that it's like I can't breathe without you. Brittany I'm so in love with you that it literally terrifies me because I actually feel like I can't function without you. _

_Brittany you are everything to me. From the moment you gave me that ridiculous drawing of that duck, I didn't have a choice. I knew I would do anything to make sure you were protected and happy for the rest of your life._

_But when I began to fall in love with you, I panicked. We live in a world that says it's wrong for me to love you. People get ridiculed, and god, some people get fucking killed, Yeah, I'm scared for myself, but I'm more scared for you. You see the best in people. You see the world as this magical place, and I don't want to take that from you. But do you know how I would feel if something bad happened to you just because I love you? I can't…I can't let anything bad happen to you. _

_But Brittany I do love you. And I'm sick of apologizing for that, or running from it. Because you make me so happy. You make me feel like I can do no wrong. Which, let's be honest, we both know that I can. But the point is, you make me feel so special. Like I can do anything if I wanted to. _

_Again, you are my everything. _

_When I'm with you, I feel whole. Like you're literally my other half. You know I hate cliché romantic terms, but Brittany, I honestly do believe you're my soul mate. And I need you. I need you in ways I can't even verbalize. And although I'm scared of what's to come, I think I can handle it, as long as you're there with me, holding my hand, promising that everything's going to be okay, even if it isn't. _

_But there is something I need to tell you. And I know it's going to hurt you. And I'm so, so sorry. But it happened a long time ago. Back when I was lying to myself, not just you. And I know you're going to hate me. But if we have any chance to move past all of this, you need to know. _

_Do you remember that party before seventh grade? The one you wrote about in a previous letter? The night of our first kiss? Do you remember how I disappeared with that guy?_

_I lost my virginity to him. I was so drunk, and young, and he was this stupid upper classman, and it just happened. _

_I remember coming back to your house and kissing you, and saying those things about wanting you to be my first, because I meant it. I knew after it happened with him, that it would have been so much better with you. And that night, when you thought I had gotten my period, that wasn't true. Remember how I told you that girls sometimes bleed a little after having sex for the first time, well…that's what it was._

_And I'm so sorry I lied. I really am. And I made you believe for so long that we were each other's firsts, but you were not mine. And I honestly can't apologize enough. I do regret it with him. Do you remember the night we went mini-golfing with the glee club earlier this summer? Do you remember how I went to get something to drink, and I came back so upset? Well I had seen him. He didn't recognize me obviously, and the only reason I knew it was him, was because of the scar on his neck. _

_I felt disgusted. I felt…I felt a lot of things. But mostly, I felt guilty. Because I was not only ashamed that he obviously had no memory of me whatsoever, but I was also ashamed of myself. For losing my virginity at such a young age. For being drunk. And for lying to my best friend. _

_It doesn't change how I feel about you. But you deserve to know the truth. _

_Please don't hate me. I was young and stupid, and I know that's no excuse, but I'm sorry. And the night you and I had sex, was indescribable. You were amazing, better than he ever was, not that I remember much of it. But that's beside the point. You should have been my first. _

_But you're my first love, and that means more to me. I love you Brittany. And I know I always will. There's no one like you. And I mean that. You're special beyond words. Sex with you is just a bonus to everything else we have shared, and will share. _

_I know I'm not perfect, and there's a lot of things I wish I could give you, because you're right, I would give you the world if I could. _

_I understand if you're upset. Just know, I never meant to hurt you. I was stupid back then, and I know I've given you many reasons to doubt us in the past because I was scared, but I promise you, I never meant to hurt you. And I will make it up to you. Just name it. Anything you want. _

_With all my love,_

_Santana. _

Brittany folded the letter back up, and dropped it to the bed in front of her. Santana could hear small sniffles, and it pained her. She didn't want to look, but she knew she had to. When she turned her head towards Brittany's, her eyes locked on glossy blue, and her heart plummeted. She really hated seeing Brittany upset. And it was always so much worse when it was because of her.

"Britt…" Santana began hesitantly, standing from the chair and walking toward the bed. She tried to hide the brokenness in her own voice, as she tried to fight away her own tears. She needed to be the strong one right now.

"I am mad at you Santana." Brittany stated evenly, her eyes boring into Santana's as Santana approached her. And Santana stopped, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Her eyes lowered on instinct. "No look at me please." Brittany practically begged, and Santana's eyes snapped back to hers instantly. "I'm mad that you still think I'm this fragile girl who needs to be protected." Brittany continued, her voice raw and edgy, but not hateful.

Santana remained at the foot of Brittany's bed, her hands clasped in front of her, watching and listening to Brittany intently.

"I'm mad that you lied. And that you think you have to hide from me." Brittany's voice broke a little, and Santana gulped. She wanted more than anything to hold her, to comfort her. But she needed to let Brittany talk until she was finished.

Brittany uncrossed her legs and sat up on her knees facing Santana. "I'm mad that you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth." Her voice was softer, less angry. She began to inch her way across her blanket on her knees toward Santana. "I'm mad you don't think I'll love you enough to not care about that."

And with that, Santana broke. She crumpled onto the bed, a quiet sob ripping its way from the back of her throat.

Brittany reached her, her hands cupping Santana's chin to tilt her head up so she could look at her. When Santana's eyes finally focused on hers, she frowned slightly and finished. "I am mad. But not in the ways that you think."

Santana wanted to speak. She wanted to cry. She wanted to do a lot of things. But when Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana and just held her, Santana figured everything else could wait. She pressed her cheek against Brittany's chest, and just breathed, Brittany's heart beat the only thing she wanted to hear. Her hands clutched at Brittany's top as Brittany's hands stroked her arms.

Brittany was mad, but not at Santana. She was mad at everyone else who constantly told Santana what was right, and what was wrong. She was mad at the people who made Santana believe that everything that was wrong was somehow Santana's fault. She was mad at Santana's mother for raising Santana to think that emotions were weaknesses. She was mad that Santana's mother couldn't shower Santana with love like her own mother did. Santana needed her mother, and Brittany was mad that Mrs. Lopez was raising her daughter to be just like her.

And Brittany didn't want that. Brittany knew how sweet and loving Santana could be. She knew how big Santana's heart was. And she didn't want her to continue acting like her mother.

Brittany was upset, but not at Santana. They had a lot they needed to talk about. But she could still see the fear and sadness in Santana's eyes, and all she wanted to do was make sure Santana knew that they were going to be okay. They would get through this. She'll forgive Santana because that's what you do when you're in love. But Santana must learn to trust her more, to open up to her more, to lean on her more. And Brittany knew that that was going to be the hard part. It wasn't getting past the past. It was how Santana was dealing with the present.

"I should be the one holding you while you cry." Santana spoke, her words muffled against Brittany's chest. A slight chuckle echoed in Brittany's room, and Brittany mirrored it. Santana sniffed and pulled away from Brittany's embrace, scooting further onto the bed so she could sit in front of her. Her eyes latched on Brittany's, and a hesitant smile curled its way across her lips. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are." Brittany offered, her finger wiping away a stray tear on Santana's cheek. "I need you to talk to me. Please stop pushing me away."

Santana's hands came to rest on Brittany's thighs, squeezing softly. "I promise." Santana breathed, like it was the easiest thing she could possibly say.

Brittany looked at her quizzically, her eyes narrowed and her brow scrunched. "Don't make promises you can't keep." Brittany warned.

"I'm not." Santana defended. Everything she had tried to keep quiet for so long was bubbling up her throat, threatening to spew like vomit. But she swallowed her nerves and continued. "I've never wanted anything more in my entire life, Brittany. And I'm not going to lie and say I'm not still scared, and that I'm still not ready to come out, but I do want this. You. I want us. And I promise to work on communicating with you better. And that is a promise I will keep." Santana muttered. She was speaking so fast, and she hoped Brittany was keeping up, but she didn't know how to stop. It was like a freaking dam had broken, and everything she wanted to say for so long was overflowing from her mouth.

But the look on Brittany's face told her it was worth it. Her eyes were so bright and trusting, and her lips were spread into the most gorgeous smile. She wasn't wearing any make up, and yet she was still the most beautiful person Santana had ever seen. "I'm going to kiss you now." Santana whispered, smiling as her cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment at having to ask Brittany if it were okay to kiss her.

But she had ignored Brittany for a whole week, so what if Brittany didn't want to kiss her anymore.

"Okay." Brittany mimicked Santana's smile, and that was all it took. Santana pounced, her lips crashing against Brittany's as her hand gripped the back of Brittany's neck, pulling her closer. She molded her lips to Brittany's effortlessly, tasting a hint of Brittany's cotton candy chap stick. She wanted more. She wanted it all. But she was sure Brittany's mom was lurking somewhere in the house, waiting to see what was going on.

So she pulled away, licking her lips as her eyes conveyed everything she was thinking. Brittany saw it and blushed, and her hands fidgeted at the hem of her shirt. She opened her mouth to speak before her bedroom door swung open, and her little sister came bounding inside.

"Tana." She squealed racing to the bed.

Santana exchanged a hesitant smile with Brittany, before she wiped at her eyes one last time. She turned toward Kenzie, a beaming grin quickly plastered on her face.

And Brittany watched. She watched Santana's walls slightly go up again, but in a different way. She wasn't fighting to keep Brittany out anymore. She was simply hiding herself from the rest of the world until they could be alone again. Her eyes were different, less dark and clouded. And she could tell Santana really was trying. She watched as Santana picked up her sister, spun her around, and then followed her out of the room, Kenzie begging her to play Barbies or something.

Brittany smiled and followed after. Because she could be patient now. As long as she knew Santana was trying, and not pushing her away anymore, then she could be patient and wait for Santana to be ready. She would never understand why Santana felt like she needed to hide how awesome she was, but she would trust that Santana wouldn't hurt her anymore, because now she knew they both truly wanted the same thing.

To be together.

No matter what.

And Brittany would be there for Santana every step of the way.

As she moved to get off the bed, writing on the envelope Santana had given her caught her eye. She hadn't noticed it when she had opened it because she was too eager to read what Santana wrote. But now she wondered what it said. She lifted the envelope from underneath the letter, and the words written in black marker made Brittany smile so wide, her cheeks hurt.

_the only reason that matters: I was made to love you._

Brittany skipped to her desk, the envelope cradled between her pointer finger and thumb. Her smile never faded as she placed it in front of the framed picture of her and Santana from New York. It leaned against the picture, the words clearly describing the way Santana was looking at her in the photo.

"Hey." Santana called, her face appearing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Your mom wants to know if I'm staying for dinner." Santana smiled, and Brittany hopped over to her, pressing her lips against Santana's in a quick kiss.

"You can stay forever." Brittany grinned, pushing past Santana as she followed the sounds of Kenzie interrogating their mother about dinner.

Santana let Brittany's words ring in her ears for a moment, and for the first time, they didn't completely freak her out. She turned and followed Brittany to the kitchen, her stomach rumbling as her nose picked up on whatever Mrs. Pierce had begun cooking.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Wow, I got this up in under two weeks. I'm very proud of myself :) And I have a feeling you're really going to love this chapter! Or at least I hope you do. Thank you so much for all the interest in this story, and your reviews. I love hearing your thoughts. Thanks to my beta, who is one of the best writers I know (you're absolutely crazy, and I love ya!) I'd tell you all to read her stuff, but I'm pretty sure everyone and their mothers are already. (And if you're not, shame on you. Her link is in my profile.)

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight - I Fit Perfectly With Her<strong>

Santana sat on her bed, her hands flipping through the pages of some book Quinn had left in her room the last time she had visited. Which, Santana now realized, she hadn't seen Quinn in a while. Or heard from her for that matter. She shrugged her shoulders at her thoughts, figuring that Quinn was just being Quinn, and tried to get into the book.

But it was pointless. Santana was having a hard time concentrating. Not only because the book was about a place with mystical creatures and shit, but also because Brittany had promised to call after her motocross practice. And Santana knew that had ended an hour ago.

She glanced at the clock once more, the time haunting her like a visible ghost. Brittany probably went home to shower and fell asleep or something. Santana huffed and closed the book with a sigh of defeat, throwing it across the bed to land near the bottom of the mattress. She untangled her legs and hopped off her bed, pulling her messy hair into a loose ponytail.

She hadn't seen her mother since she went to Brittany's yesterday, and the house was eerily quiet. She was used to her father being busy with work. But her mother usually worked at home during the summer. And Santana briefly wondered if she had gone on a business trip without telling her or something.

As Santana made her way downstairs, the faint sound of rain began to trickle through out the house. Santana peered out of the living room window, surprised to see how quickly a summer day could transform into a scene from one of those storm chaser shows on the Weather Channel. The rain came down in sheets, turning the street outside her house into a mini river, as the water ran to find purchase in someone's lawn, or to fall through the gate of a street drain.

Thunder cracked across the sky, ripping it in two, as her house slightly shook. Lightning soon followed, streaking the now clouded sky with a flash of white brilliance. Santana loved summer storms. They were usually done before they even started, and the dulling sound of the rain hitting the Earth was soothing. Plus, the smell of rain against the warm roads from the summer sun was intoxicating in a way that reminded her of her childhood. When her and Brittany used to play in the puddles in the street, as her father watched from the porch steps, a humongous smile plastered on his face.

But she knew Brittany hated thunderstorms. They used to build forts to hide from them when they were little. And that made Santana worry more. It was unlike Brittany to forget to call her after practice, and now images of a hurt Brittany, lying in the dirt as a storm waged overhead crossed Santana's mind, and she shuddered.

She knew she was being dramatic, but damn it, she wished she knew where Brittany was.

With another strike of lightning, Santana was cast into darkness as the lights flickered before going out completely. And her stomach plummeted, because where the hell was Brittany? Why wasn't she answering her phone? And why the hell was the power out?

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><p>Santana tilted the lighter into the last candle, sending the house into a dull, hazy glow. She set it down on the fire mantle, as a tiny bead of sweat rolled down her back.<p>

No power, meant no air conditioner. And with the added heat of the candles, the house began to get warm. And she couldn't really open a window, because the rain outside licked at the glass, begging to be let in.

Just as she pulled her tank top over her head, a loud bang against her front door echoed in from the foyer. Her eyes widened in slight fear, briefly thinking a bird had flown into the glass screen door due to the storm.

Birds weren't always the smartest. Plus, there were always stories about people finding dead birds around after a big storm.

Santana dropped her shirt on the couch as she walked toward the front door. Another bang caused her to jump a little, but her curiosity won her over. She kind of wondered if answering the door in just shorts and a sports bra was a good idea; maybe it was a serial killer looking for half-naked, teenaged girls. Her hand shook as it reached for the knob, and she swallowed audibly as she turned the warm metal.

Brittany stood on the front porch, her motocross gear drenched, and her blonde hair a light shade of brown as it clung to her head from the rain. Her smile was wide and warm, and her eyes widened when she noticed what Santana was wearing.

"Were we supposed to dress down today? I forgot what our plans were." Brittany mumbled, a drop of water running down her cheek, over her chin, and falling to the cement below.

"Where have you been?" Santana blurted, her eyes scanning Brittany for any traces of hurt or harm. When no visible bruises could be seen, her eyes settled back on Brittany's, visibly pleading to be let in to get away from the storm. "Oh hell no. My mom would literally skin me alive if I let you in right now."

"But San, I'm cold and wet. And I hate storms. And I walked all the way here for you when my car wouldn't start. And I'm pretty sure I got struck my lightning." Brittany rambled, droplets of water falling from various points of her body.

Santana chuckled, noticing the way Brittany's lip slightly quivered. "Okay fine. But you have to get out of that suit first." Santana instructed, pointing toward Brittany's motocross outfit.

"I'm not getting naked on your front porch." Brittany quickly responded, her head turning to look up and down the quiet street. Santana had weird neighbors, and she wasn't about to put on a show for their curious and perverted eyes. One time, Santana had caught Joshua Phillips peeking through the slits in the fence when they were sunbathing. Brittany had never seen Santana run so fast, Spanish curse words flying from her mouth, as she sprinted after him.

"Go to the back and come through the sliding doors. Do you want a change of clothes?" Santana asked. She had to admit, it was actually a little cooler outside now that it was raining, and Brittany had to be freezing.

But Brittany shook her head. "No. Can I take a warm bath or something? I can't feel my toes." She wiggled her feet as she leaned back on her heels to prove her point.

Santana let out an airy laugh, nodding her head as she began to retreat back into the house. "Yeah, I'll get it started. Just come on up once you're out of that wetsuit."

Brittany smiled wide, the corners of her lips curling as she practically jumped off the porch and ran around back. She had the zipper of her motocross suit halfway down her front before she even made it to the back doors, her arms scrambling to get out of the tight material. She slithered her waist out, pulling the pink and black suit down to her ankles, and stepping out. Her underwear and bra were soaked too, but she figured she was okay to at least enter the house, so she could take those off in the bathroom.

She slid the doors open and stepped through, immediately noticing the darkness. "San?" She called quietly, wondering why Santana was home alone with no lights on. When she didn't receive an answer, she spun and closed the doors behind her, and quietly made her way through the kitchen and to the stairs. She noticed the candles littered around the house, and her heart swelled. How did Santana have the time to decorate the house so romantically? Brittany was sure she had hurried as fast as she could, but Santana obviously had had enough time to do something so sweet.

Brittany smiled as she made her up the stairs and toward Santana's room, a few candles lighting her path. She was glad for that, because she definitely would have tripped over the spot in the rug that always bunched in the middle of the hallway. She turned the corner and heard the running of the water. She found Santana sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her hand sifting through the water.

"How did you have time to make everything so beautiful?" Brittany smiled as Santana turned to her, chocolate eyes roaming over the lines of Brittany's stomach.

She stood slowly, stalking towards Brittany like she was floating. "I wish I could take credit for the candles, but I'm afraid the power's out because of the storm." Santana smirked, her hands grazing Brittany's shoulders, before falling to her creamy back. Brittany watched her carefully as Santana's fingers unclasped her bra, and slipped the straps down her arms. "And since the power's out, the water heater isn't really working. So the bath's not very warm."

Brittany shuddered, a mix of being cold and aroused, and Santana watched as her eyes faded to mirror the clouded sky outside. Santana's fingers were soft and warm as they traveled down Brittany's sides, looping in the waistband of her blue boy shorts. Santana pulled them down her legs, bending at the waist as they reached Brittany's ankles. Brittany rested her hands on Santana's shoulders as she stepped out of her underwear, her eyes watching as Santana placed an innocent kiss on the crease of her hip.

Santana stood once Brittany was completely naked, her eyes taking their time as they traveled back up pale and flawless skin, to stormy eyes. She laced her fingers with Brittany's, and carefully guided her to the side of the tub. Brittany kept her hand in Santana's as she stepped over the edge, and slowly lowered herself into the lukewarm water.

"I'll be downstairs. Take your time." Santana offered as she slipped her hand out of Brittany's grasp once she was settled into the bathtub.

"Wait." Brittany half cried, her eyes shooting to Santana's retreating form. Her arm rested on the porcelain edge, her toes tapping against the tub underneath the faucet.

Santana turned back around, the two candles in the bathroom flickering with her movement. The tops of Brittany's shoulders were visible above the water, but the minimal light that danced across the water, gave Santana a pixilated view of the parts of Brittany that were visible moments early.

"Don't you want to join?" Brittany smiled, her finger grazing the water above her blurry breast in a sensual circle.

Santana's eyes dropped to watch the ripples in the water before snapping back to Brittany's face. "I'm good. I showered earlier." And before Brittany could hop out of the tub and drag her into the water, Santana exited the bathroom, her footsteps echoing through the muted house.

Brittany sighed and rolled her shoulders, sinking further into the water. Brittany didn't understand. She didn't understand why some days Santana couldn't keep her hands off of her, and other days, she wouldn't even touch her. She thought maybe it had something to do with Santana being scared, but she didn't have a reason to be scared in private. What if some days she just didn't like her enough to want to have sex with her? Weren't people in love supposed to have sex like all the time? Maybe she was on her period. Or maybe she didn't feel good.

The ends of her hair dipped beneath the surface of the water, as she bent her knees so her head could rest against the back. Whatever the reason, Brittany just didn't understand. Because she always wanted to touch Santana. She wanted to feel the softness of her skin, and the warmness of her heated folds. She wanted to feel Santana's velvet tongue, and the fullness of her boobs. Brittany felt like she could never get enough of Santana.

But did Santana not feel the same way? Was that why she didn't always want to have sex?

But Brittany knew Santana loved her. She wouldn't have struggled so much if she didn't. So what was the problem? Was she not sexy enough for Santana? She never heard a complaint from anyone in that department before.

Maybe Santana was just as confused as she was, and she needed some reassurance or something. Maybe they needed to talk about things. But Santana never liked talking about stuff.

She lowered herself further into the water, allowing her head to drop beneath the surface and rest against the bottom of the tub. There was no use getting upset over it. Brittany wasn't even sure there was a real problem, or if she was just making it up.

She pulled herself back into a sitting position, wiping the water from her eyes. She would just ask, and then she wouldn't have to be confused anymore. She was probably just making a big deal out of nothing anyways.

Santana had laid a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on her bed for her. Brittany put them on, pulled her hair into a bun, and made her way back downstairs to the living room.

"I'd say we could watch a movie, but you know, power's out." She murmured as Brittany joined her on the couch. She nodded and watched as Santana fiddled with her phone in her lap. Brittany tried to relax, forcing her dancing thoughts to the back of her mind as they sat in silence, waiting to think of something to do.

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><p>When Santana returned from the bathroom, she eyed Brittany curiously, her brow hitched when she noticed Brittany staring at her. "What?" Santana shrugged her shoulders, and Brittany could see the way her muscles rippled as they moved. She wanted to run her fingers over them, feel them move and quiver beneath her touch.<p>

Brittany licked her lips, and her eyes refocused on Santana's. They were warm and lowered, the color of melted chocolate. Brittany had to squint to see her fully in the candlelight. "Did I do something wrong?" The words were uttered before Brittany could stop them, and her own eyes dropped to her lap.

"What?" Santana asked in shock, standing in the middle of the living room. "No. I mean, I was worried when you didn't call but…"

"No." Brittany shook her head, her thumb picking at the skin around her pinky nail. She swallowed and looked back up at Santana. "I mean, you don't…am I…do you not find me attractive anymore?" Brittany breathed, her heart hammering against her chest. She could hear it in her ears. It was so loud. Too loud. She knew Santana had to be able to hear it too, and that only made it beat faster and harder.

Santana's eyes widened, and her heart plummeted to her stomach. Why would Brittany ever think that? She was literally the sexiest person Santana ever had the pleasure of seeing. She's not proud to admit it, but one time, Brittany had asked her to work on something for a dance recital. Santana wasn't sure how her outfit had been considered clothes, because it had left very little to the imagination. And as she watched Brittany dance, very thin fabric covering her most private areas, Santana had lost control of herself. And with the slightly added pressure of her heel as she sat and watched, she was almost able to get off by just watching Brittany.

So for her to think that Santana didn't find her attractive anymore was absurd. "Are you crazy?" Santana finally muttered, after she realized she hadn't responded, and she saw Brittany get even more nervous.

Brittany's eyes widened, and then narrowed as she looked at Santana in more confusion.

Santana blinked, swallowed, and then shifted her weight to her other foot. "Brittany, you're like the sexiest person I know. It would literally be impossible for anyone to _not_ be attracted to you."

Brittany smiled softly at that, a faint blush coating her cheeks, and she was thankful there weren't any lights on so Santana couldn't see it. "Then why won't you have sex with me?" She asked so innocently, her stomach spinning as her nerves danced around inside of her.

"What?" Santana shrieked in disbelief, her eyes popping and mouth dropping wide. She realized she was practically shouting, so she closed her mouth and took a deep breath before she continued. "Brittany, we have sex all the time." Santana sort of laughed.

"We haven't had sex in eleven days." Brittany's mouth was dry as she searched Santana for reasons as to why. "That's like two weeks with no orgasms. That should be a crime."

Santana did laugh at that. "Brittany, for seven of those days I was being a jerk and ignoring you, so those don't count. So really, it's only four days." Santana clarified, but her skin was growing warm under Brittany's glare.

Was she not doing a good job at making Brittany feel loved? She knew she had messed up when she pushed Brittany away because she was scared, but that didn't mean she didn't love her. And it sure as hell didn't mean Brittany wasn't attractive.

"Oh," Brittany muttered, feeling a little foolish for thinking something was wrong.

Santana smiled softly at how cute nervous Brittany was, and she shuffled closer to where Brittany was sitting on the couch. "Can I tell you something?" She asked hesitantly, crouching down in front of Brittany, her knees brushing against Brittany's shins.

Brittany nodded slowly, her lips curling in excitement at Santana wanting to talk about things.

Santana expelled a lungful of air, her palms coming to rest hotly on Brittany's knees. "We used to have sex all the time, and I made you believe it didn't mean anything to me." Santana breathed, her eyes warm and inviting, and Brittany watched and listened, eagerly and intently. "I just, I don't want you to think that that's what it's all about now. Because it's not."

Brittany was shocked. Her skin felt like she had been electrocuted or something. The tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood straight up. She knew her eyes had to be wide too, because they were starting to hurt.

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. It was no secret she had slept with a fair share of people, but not once had anyone actually been concerned about her. Guys usually just wanted to get off as quickly as possible, some not even caring if she had followed with them. Except Artie. But she really didn't want to think of Artie while Santana was kneeling in front of her with just a sports bra on.

The way Santana was looking at her, with such unconditional love and undeniable want, it sent Brittany's body into an involuntary shiver. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, and watched as Santana's eyes grew impossibly darker.

"San…" Brittany practically whined, her hands gripping at the fabric of the shorts Santana let her borrow. Santana's eyebrow arced, and her head cocked in question. Brittany wet her lips with her tongue and blinked her eyes closed slowly. When they opened, they latched onto Santana's like a magnetic pull. "Kiss me," she panted. "Please."

Santana's arousal blossomed, like a bird outstretching its wings, at Brittany's desperate plea. And her tongue shook against her own lips as she tried to wet them.

"Kiss me." Brittany begged airily, and Santana didn't need to be told a third time. She gripped tight to Brittany's knees as she pushed forward and pressed her lips to Brittany's.

They were soft and moist, and very alluring as they slid against Santana's. She allowed her lips to mold to Brittany's as she parted them slightly, Brittany's bottom lip fitting perfectly between hers. Brittany's hands shot to Santana's back, clawing and pulling her closer still.

Santana's head was spinning. How could Brittany ever doubt that she was attractive when Santana's underwear was already embarrassingly wet, and they were just kissing. She wanted to show Brittany that she was special, better than just some random hook up. She thought that by being with Brittany without having sex all the time, would make Brittany feel like she was needed in ways other than her impeccable body. But as Brittany's tongue flicked across her top lip, begging for entrance, Santana melted and gave it to her.

Her tongue was velvet and soft, licking at the back of Santana's teeth as she explored Santana's mouth. She opened her mouth wider to give Brittany more access, which Brittany took full advantage of. Her hands pressed against Santana's back, molding their fronts together as she savored the way Santana tasted.

Santana closed her mouth as Brittany's tongue retreated, and she had to pull away to catch her breath. She felt dizzy and shocked, her senses saturated in complete desire for Brittany. Her skin was buzzing as Brittany's nails scraped along her sides, before she pressed her palms flat against the bare skin of Santana's stomach. She was breathing fast and heavy, like no matter how hard she tried to breathe, she would never be able to do so normally again.

"I want you." Brittany breathed hotly as she tugged at the bottom of Santana's sports bra.

Santana moaned, her stomach clenching with desire. Her forehead fell against Brittany's, their noses bumping together as Santana breathed in the air Brittany was exhaling. She nodded against Brittany, not trusting her ability to talk as she allowed Brittany to pull the only thing covering her chest over her head. It was thrown to the floor of the living room as Brittany's hands returned to Santana's sides.

Santana's chest rose and fell with each labored breath she took, and Brittany couldn't help it as her hands came up to palm the hanging weight. She kneaded and manipulated Santana's boobs with her hands, feeling as soft nipples began to harden with each flick of her thumb.

"Unf." Santana panted, her hands gripping Brittany's knees tighter in an attempt to keep herself grounded.

Without warning, Brittany nudged Santana's forehead away, and she latched warm lips around a stiffened peak. Santana groaned, her hands digging into Brittany's knees, indenting pale skin beneath her fingertips. Her own knees were shaking with having to support herself as Brittany's tongue showed affection to her heaving chest.

She wanted Brittany to feel this. To feel as good as she was making Santana feel. "I want to," she breathed, her throat dry with passion. "I want us…"

Brittany released her breast, and her lips glided over Santana's skin as she moved upward. "What do you want?" She hummed against Santana's neck, smiling as her lips connected with Santana's pulse point. She felt the way Santana swallowed, her pulse quickening beneath her lips.

But Santana didn't speak. Instead, she pulled away from Brittany, standing to her feet. She looked down at Brittany, whose eyes were dark and hooded, waiting to see what Santana was going to do. She felt desperate, and tangled, like she was wrapped around and in Santana so tightly, that she needed Santana's touch to unwind. Santana laced her hand with Brittany's and pulled her off the couch, leading them both to the center of the living room. And Brittany watched, her chest heaving with anticipation as Santana let go of her hands and gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over blonde hair, and dropping it to the floor, thankful she hadn't given Brittany a bra.

Her lips hovered over Brittany's as her fingers began to pull down Brittany's shorts, thankful that she hadn't given Brittany underwear either. Her fingers stroked over thighs as the material was loosened, before falling and pooling at Brittany's feet.

"Hmm." Brittany sighed, her stomach caving as she breathed. She needed Santana out of her shorts. Her hands shot to Santana's waist, tugging urgently at the offending material, guiding both shorts and underwear over Santana's hips, and letting them both fall to Santana's ankles.

Santana pulled them downward, until Brittany was lying flat on her back, Santana straddling her hips. She smiled down at blue and eager eyes, the candlelight fluttering across Brittany in a way that made her seem angelic. She was beautiful. Immaculate. Perfect. And the way Brittany was looking at her, so trusting and full of love, her stomach fluttered as her own lips curled to match Brittany's tender smile.

She pulled Brittany's arms above her head, holding them in place as she lowered herself and kissed waiting lips. Brittany's hips rolled upwards, causing Santana to release a groan as Brittany's lower abdomen rolled against her core. "Baby…" she panted against Brittany's lips, kissing her way across Brittany's jaw.

Brittany wanted to move her hands. She wanted to touch Santana, anywhere and everywhere. But the weight with which Santana was pressing her knuckles into the carpet told her she was supposed to keep her hands where they were. Santana rocked back into Brittany, her sex rubbing against Brittany's lower stomach as her mouth licked its way down a pulsing neck. She felt flushed and dizzy, like she was drunk on Brittany. And when she reached Brittany's collarbone, she nibbled without restraint, her teeth sinking into pale and sweaty skin.

Brittany hissed in a pleasured protest, a mixture of pain and desire pooling where Santana's teeth left her skin. She felt as Santana kissed the tender spot, before continuing downward to her boobs. She felt as Santana's lips grazed across her nipple, before lowering to lick the underside of her breast. She whined, her hips canting upward for more friction, her arms fighting with Santana's to be released.

Santana smiled into the flesh of Brittany's breast, kissing it softly, before moving up to kiss her lips quickly. "Be patient." Santana purred, her tongue licking across Brittany's lips playfully.

Brittany groaned her disapproval as Santana tugged on her bottom lip. "I don't wanna."

Santana smirked as she pressed their lips together before sitting back on Brittany's waist, letting go of Brittany's hands in the process. Her hands rested on the plane of Brittany's stomach, allowing herself to feel each time Brittany inhaled and exhaled, like she was a part of her. It was peaceful and intimate, and Santana wanted it to last.

But she could see the way Brittany was practically pleading with her eyes for more. And Santana knew she would never deny her.

Santana moved until she was settled between Brittany's legs on her knees, smiling as Brittany continued to watch her movements with lustful anticipation. She draped one of her legs over Brittany's right thigh, successfully straddling it, before she tapped Brittany's left knee. "Lift," she demanded in a whisper, watching as Brittany did as she was told. As soon as Brittany's leg was lifted, Santana slid her other leg underneath. She smirked when realization flashed across Brittany's eyes, and began to lower herself to her back, pushing her sex against Brittany's.

"Holy…" The curse was lost on Brittany's lips as she thrust against Santana again, craving the feeling of Santana's core sliding across her own. "San."

"Give me your hands." Santana panted, stretching her arms toward their joined hips. When Brittany laced her fingers with Santana's, they rested their interlocked hands on the thighs that were flat against the floor, their other legs bent at the knee above them.

They found an easy rhythm, one pushing against the other before it was reciprocated. It didn't take long before they were rocking into each other, slippery folds parting with each movement as they slid against the other. Santana wasn't sure who began the moaning, but the other quickly joined, their voices mixing together above them as their bodies writhed below.

Brittany began to whimper as Santana pushed against her harder, hitting her clit in the most intoxicating way. It was magical, the way she could feel Santana against her, grinding and thrusting, winding her up in the most intimate and pleasurable way. It was harder this way, but the high she was getting was worth all the extra work. Because no one had ever had Santana this way. And no one had had her this way.

This was theirs. Something only they could do together. And that's what made it even more magical.

Santana arced her back and pushed against Brittany, whimpering as her clit found Brittany's. "Fuck." She moaned, circling her hips to rub against Brittany in a repeated manner, seeking the friction as their bundled nubs slid together.

"Don't stop." Brittany panted, her hips moving in time with Santana's. Her hands gripped Santana's tighter, pulling on her arms as her own back bowed with pleasure. "Don't stop." She repeated, her own wetness coating Santana's folds, and she moaned at the thought of their arousal pooling and mixing together.

Santana worked harder, her eyes shut in pleasure as she felt her own climax approaching. She had missed this. Fingers and tongue were nice, but having sex with Brittany like this was the most amazing experience she had ever had. And god, she had missed it. She forgot how stimulating and exhilarating it was, to touch Brittany's core with her own. To feel her own wetness mixed with Brittany's. To approach the same cliff, and be able to jump off together.

Her stomach tightened and her thighs ached, and she ground her hips into Brittany's as she climbed higher and higher. "I'm…" she breathed, her heaving chest making it near impossible to form complete words.

"Almost." Brittany answered automatically, her hips following Santana's like they were dancing together. "Just…" She rolled herself against Santana, moaning at the liquid heat that slid against her skin.

Santana couldn't hold out any longer, and her muscles stiffened and froze, as her body shook with pleasure, whimpered moans escaping past parted lips.

Brittany heard her and felt her, and she jumped too, falling as pleasure shot through her, their centers jumping against one another as they each rode out their separate waves.

Santana released Brittany's hands as she came back down, her muscles relaxing as she tried to catch her breath.

"Wow." Brittany uttered, her tongue wetting her dry lips as she shook one last time, her spine lowering back to the floor as she came down from her high. Brittany heard Santana moving, and she felt as Santana untangled their limbs, but she couldn't open her eyes. She was exhausted and completely satisfied, and all she wanted to do was drown herself in everything that had just occurred.

Santana cradled herself against Brittany's side, her arm draping over a panting stomach. She kissed Brittany's cheek lazily, her hot and ragged breath hitting flushed flesh as she rested there. Brittany's hand stroked at raven hair, clawing at the back of Santana's neck in dazed appreciation.

"Wow." She repeated, and Santana chuckled into the skin of Brittany's cheek. She kissed it again before her lips traveled lower, kissing along Brittany's jaw and neck. It wasn't until Santana had somehow maneuvered herself between Brittany's still parted legs, her lips dangerously low on her abdomen, that Brittany realized what she was doing. "Wait."

Santana's head shot up, her eyes locking on Brittany's as she squinted through the darkness and her still undulating pleasure. "I just want to taste us." Santana smiled, and Brittany moaned at the words.

Taste us. Mixed together. United.

Her hips rolled beyond her control, and Santana smirked before lowering herself and breathing in the scent of them. It was musky and heated, but she could feel the stickiness between her thighs grow at the smell. She closed her eyes and let her tongue run through wet folds, moaning at the taste of not only Brittany, but also herself on Brittany. It was different, but delightful, and she lapped through them again. Brittany's moans joined hers, and soon she wasn't just tasting. She wanted Brittany to come again, with both of their juices mixed together beautifully on her tongue.

But the sound of the garage door opening jolted Santana, she froze, making sure she heard correctly, before jumping away from Brittany, and onto her feet within seconds. "Shit. Britt, it's my mom. You got to get up." She screamed in a hushed whisper, her hands already grabbing for her own clothes. She tossed Brittany's shorts at her as she sat up, her chest still panting with a need for release. "Hurry." She almost cried, yanking her shirt over her head as she heard the car door shut.

Brittany could see the panic written all over Santana's face. The fear was etched there in giant letters, and if she looked hard enough, she could have sworn she saw Santana shaking.

As the garage door closed and the kitchen door opened, Brittany had managed to pull her t-shirt over her head and settle onto the couch next to Santana, both of them staring at a black screen.

Santana knew the room smelled like sex. They looked like sex. And she spotted the tiny wet spot on the carpet from where they had been. She gulped, panic settling in her stomach where undeniable pleasure had previously collected. She knew they looked suspicious, especially since they were staring at a blank television, in the dark, not talking.

"Hey Santana…" Her mother began, her words fading when she noticed Brittany on the couch. "Oh hello Brittany." Mrs. Lopez smiled warmly, and a little falsely, as her eyes skated over her daughter's and Brittany's appearance. "What have you two been doing?"

"Just, um, waiting for the power to come back on." Santana stuttered, her nerves taking over her body as wave after wave of fear rolled through her.

Mrs. Lopez looked to the off TV before turning back toward the duo on the couch. Something was different, and her eyebrow arced in suspicion. "Okay…" she sighed. "Well can you two help me with the groceries?" She barely finished the sentence before both of them were jumping off the couch and racing to the garage to get the rest of the groceries. Mrs. Lopez stood in the living room, glancing around the dark room to find something out of place. Her eyes skirted over the couch, the walls, the carpet, and came up empty. But that didn't change the feeling she had, and she was sure she'd figure it out sooner or later.

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><p>"That was close." Brittany huffed as they walked, the storm fading to a light mist as the sun peeked through the scattered clouds.<p>

"Yeah." Santana nodded, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jean shorts, her eyes lowered to the sidewalk.

"But we're fine." Brittany smiled, her hand grazing Santana's. She wanted to hold her hand, walk with their fingers intertwined after how intimate they had been earlier. But she knew Santana would never go for it. Especially after almost being caught by her mother. "Can I tell you something?"

Santana turned to her and saw the beaming grin painted across her lips. And she couldn't fight off her own body as it mirrored the smile. "Of course B, you can tell me anything."

"I have a letter for you, at home, and I want you to read it as soon as we get there." Brittany skipped in place, her bubbly personality cascading outward, and hitting Santana with an infectious giggle.

"Okay Britt." She blinked before looking back down street. The water was still running down the road, but it was contained to the gutters now. The sun was starting to shine brighter as the last of the storm clouds cleared, and she instantly felt its warmth kiss her skin.

"Also, thank you." Brittany's voice lowered as her eyes quickly scanned the neighborhood, before leaning over and kissing Santana's cheek quickly. "You made me feel so special."

Santana blushed, her cheek tingling as her smiled curled wider. "You weren't so bad yourself." Brittany's cheeks colored to match Santana's as her eyes blinked away. Her mind was racing with images and sounds and smells from earlier. She felt alive and sober, like her senses were clearer than they had ever been. In all the times they had done that, it had never left Brittany feeling like this before. She felt possessed, like Santana had somehow placed something inside of her, planting a part of her within Brittany, and it would be impossible for Brittany to ever get rid of it.

She didn't realize they had walked all the way to her house when she finally pulled herself from her thoughts. Santana laughed when she saw the surprised look on Brittany's face. "I love how you get so lost in yourself sometimes. How you can just block out what's around you. You're so cute." Santana chuckled, shaking her head as Brittany's eyes lit up and her mouth moved into a wide grin.

"Well I think you're cute too." Brittany replied sweetly, her eyes bright blue and happy as she tapped the tip of Santana's nose with her finger.

No one was home when they entered, and Brittany led them straight to her room. She placed Santana on her bed before she walked to her desk and retrieved a folded piece of paper. "I didn't put it in an envelope yet. But those aren't really important anyways. I don't put nice words on them like you did."

"That's because all your nice words are in the letters." Santana grinned an encouraging smile, her hand reaching for the letter as Brittany sat across from her. Brittany leaned in and kissed her, pulling back as Santana took the letter. "I've been wanting to do that since we left." Brittany blushed when Santana smiled at her, shaking her head as she unfolded the paper.

_Letter I lost count._

_Dear Santana,_

_Do you remember that time we ordered Chinese take-out when your parents left for some retreat the summer before our sophomore year? You wanted lo mein and I wanted fried rice, so we got both and shared. Do you remember how we watched A Walk To Remember, and how you cried like a baby? Cause I do, and it was so cute. You're probably denying it right now. Please don't. You can cry Santana. Remember that song by Fergie? Big girls don't cry or whatever. You used to tell me it was a stupid song because girls were allowed to cry. So don't ever stop crying over silly movies. Cause like I said, it's really cute._

_Anyways, do you remember what happened that night? You told me you wanted to try something new, something we never did before. At first I thought you wanted to use a toy or something because a few months earlier I found that pink thing in your underwear drawer. But you put us in a position that we had never tried before, and when we met, I thought I had gone blind with passion. When we touched like that, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced, even with guys. I always wanted to be able to be that close to you, sexually, like with a guy, and it made me sad to think that I could never do that. But when you positioned us like that, it made me feel like I could. Like I could give you everything a guy could. Like we could do anything together. _

_You later told me it was called scissoring, which I think is funny. Cause scissors are bad. They're sharp and they cut things. But what we did was definitely not a bad thing. It was amazing. And awesome. And so much fun. I really think it should be called something else. Who do I have to talk to about getting the name changed?_

_I just wanted to remind you of that night because I know you're scared. I know we're slowly trying to work this out. But I have faith in us. Because like I said, together we can do anything. _

_You fit perfectly around me. Within me. Next to me. _

_You fit perfectly with me. _

_And we may not have it all figured out right now San, but I know we will. We work together so beautifully. We were able to do something together that can never be done with someone else. _

_Unless I have sex with another girl. But like, no other girl could compare to you Santana. You're mine, and I'm yours. _

_Reason # I lost count: You fit perfectly with me. _

_Sincerely,_

_Brittany S. Pierce_

Santana smiled wide as she looked up at Brittany, folding the letter back up.

"I wrote that before today." Brittany beamed, happy that she had written about the first time they had tried scissoring, and how they had done it earlier. Brittany had thought the first time was awkward and a little clumsy as they tried to figure it out, but she thought it was one of the best times.

But that was before earlier. She definitely had to agree that earlier today was the best one yet.

"What a coincidence." Santana rolled her eyes as Brittany swatted at her playfully.

"I keep trying to tell you I'm a psychic. But you never believe me." Brittany giggled, and when Santana rolled her eyes again with a huge smile on her face, Brittany pounced and pinned her to her bed. "Pinned ya again." Brittany beamed, kissing Santana quickly after Santana scrunched her nose in mock protest.

"You can't quote the Lion King and expect me to find you sexy Britt-Britt." Santana smiled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind Brittany's ear.

"I'm always sexy. You said so." Brittany rolled her hips against Santana teasingly, giggling when Santana's cheeks flushed slightly.

"And I can see it's already given your ego a boost." Santana mocked, struggling to gain control over the situation. But Brittany's strong arms had her pinned to the bed. "Now get off of me you crazy lion."

"Or what?" Brittany played along, her eyes bright and lively, with her lips spread wide in the biggest smile.

"Nothing." Santana sighed, her body relaxing under Brittany's. "Just kiss me." If it were possible, Brittany's smile grew, before she leaned down and pressed her lips to Santana's plump and waiting mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: As always, thank you for your reviews. And biggest thanks to my beta, you're all kinds of special :) Also, I have an idea for a new story, so that will be happening after this one is done. And the song used is Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine - My Heartbeat Matches Hers<strong>

Santana gathered herself from her towel, pulling herself to her feet as she adjusted her bikini bottoms. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and she felt the familiar burn of an afternoon tan as her bottoms popped off her skin around her hips as she fixed them. She walked to her back deck, her bare feet hot against the warmed wood.

She slid the glass doors shut as she entered the air-conditioned house. She immediately felt bumps rise to the surface of her skin as the cool air hit the traces of sweat. She noticed her father's gray t-shirt on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen, and she pulled the cool fabric over her head. The baggy shirt hung off one of her shoulders as she glanced at the clock above the stove.

Brittany would be over soon so they could go to Cedar Point for the rest of the day, opting to go later to avoid most of the tourists and the long lines. Santana wasn't the most thrilled person when it came to amusement parks, mostly because of the screaming children and the ridiculous price to ride over-hyped roller coasters. But Brittany had suggested it, and she knew Brittany loved the rides and the way they made her tummy feel, and she couldn't deny Brittany an afternoon of fun.

Santana rolled her neck as she walked up the stairs, plopping down on her bed as soon as she entered her room. Her back flopped against her comforter, flipping on the television with the remote on her nightstand. When nothing caught her attention, she let it play in the background as she picked up her phone. She began to flip through her photos, smiling as she went through a set of ten pictures of Brittany making a different face in each one. She remembered how Brittany had asked to borrow her phone in their New York hotel room during Nationals, saying she had _lost_ hers after talking to Lord Tubbington the night before. Santana had given Brittany hers willingly, and later that night, when Santana wanted to take a picture of them, she found the roll of photos with Brittany giggling in her ear next to her.

Santana continued to scroll through her phone's pictures, reminiscing through past memories. Mostly of them in glee club. Some from Cheerios. A few outside of school. She smiled at how many she had saved, before she stopped and her breath hitched, her lips curling into a wide smirk.

Santana had forgotten about them. And she briefly wondered if Quinn had seen them when she used her phone a few months ago. Heat rose to her cheeks at the thought of Quinn seeing them, and she promised herself she would delete them after she was done looking at them.

Her breathing quickened along with her heart rate. Her free hand unconsciously went to palm her stomach. She could feel the heat pull at her lower abdomen, coiling, as her fingers started to lower beneath the band of her bikini bottoms.

She knew she shouldn't. Brittany would be there soon, and she needed to get ready. But her hips were already rolling with need as her eyes stayed strained on the pictures in front of her. Brittany had sent them to her a long time ago, knowing exactly what Santana would do with them. It's not like she hadn't returned the favor and sent some _photos_ of herself. She wondered if Brittany still had them on her phone, and if she had touched herself looking at them.

Just the thought and mental image of Brittany touching herself had Santana sticky between her thighs, and she easily lowered her hand and allowed her fingers to slip through slick folds. Brittany was never shy about her body, and Santana was thankful for that as her eyes roamed the digital copies of Brittany's perfection as she slowly began to circle herself.

Her hips began to cant with want as her strokes grew firmer and faster. Her eyes closed with passion as she worked herself higher, images of Brittany flashing through her mind. Brittany's body. Brittany touching herself. Brittany breathless and panting.

She let slip little breathy moans as the coiling in her stomach grew tighter, her fingers coated with wetness. She was about to arc her back and give in to her release when she heard an airy gasp and giggle coming from her doorway. She immediately stopped. Her body froze as she turned her head to the door, to find Brittany standing there, smiling at her with rosy cheeks. She snapped her hand from beneath her swimsuit. She was panting, unable to catch her breath. The mixture of pleasure and embarrassment shot through her, as she feared the worst.

Was Brittany grossed out? Was she shocked? Did she think Santana did this all the time? She was about to sit up and fumble for an excuse, before Brittany began walking toward her. There was something written across Brittany's face that Santana couldn't exactly pinpoint. Was it interest? Was she curious? Did she want to pick up where she left off? Santana blushed further at that thought, but was thrown when Brittany opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't." She instructed, her voice husky and dripping with arousal. Her movements were slow and graceful as she stalked toward the bed, and Santana watched with hooded and lazy eyes, her body practically begging for release. "Don't stop."

"Britt." Santana squeaked, her cheeks warm with embarrassment at being caught. She knew she shouldn't have started.

"Please." Brittany purred, her knees against the bed as her eyes raked over Santana's heaving chest and shaking legs.

Santana sighed, gulped, and her eyes flickered from Brittany's, to her sticky fingers on her stomach, and back to Brittany's.

Did Brittany really want to watch her get off? Santana still felt embarrassed. But she had to admit, the thought of Brittany touching herself was what had gotten her in this mess in the first place. So it only made sense that Brittany would find the reverse just as exciting.

This time as she lowered her hand, her movements were slower, tentative. Like she was wrong for doing so, but she couldn't stop. Her hips bucked at the slightest pressure, still desperate. She moaned, and she was pretty sure she could hear Brittany let out a passionate squeak in return. Which only fueled her ever-growing desire.

Her fingers found their rhythm again as she began in slow circles. She knew it wouldn't last long, and her eyes closed as she quickened her pace.

But then she felt the bed dip as Brittany's knee climbed on top. Her eyes snapped open, watching as Brittany hiked up her dad's shirt with questions written all over her face. "I want to see." Brittany breathed, her voice cracking as she wetted her lips.

Santana moaned, pleading with her eyes for Brittany to take over. But Brittany remained where she was, her eyes wide and dark as they flicked toward Santana's covered hand. She could see the fabric move with each circle Santana made, and she needed to see more.

She crawled on the bed, moving to sit next to Santana's hip, her back to Santana's face as she hesitantly gripped the sides of Santana's bikini. "Britt." Santana breathed again. She felt vulnerable. Exposed. Like her greatest nightmare was turning into reality. This was something to do in private. Something when Brittany wasn't around. And to have Brittany watching her made her feel like she had been placed on stage to sing, but nobody had given her the words to the song.

"I want to see you." Brittany's words were soft and full of desire, and Santana relaxed a little. It didn't need to be a nightmare. It was just Brittany. And Brittany had seen her naked plenty of times.

But they had never seen each other do this, and Santana's stomach fluttered with nerves and arousal.

"I want to see you touch yourself." Brittany whimpered, tugging the bikini down caramel legs. Santana bent her knees and allowed Brittany to pull the fabric off her ankles.

Santana moaned at her words, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, as Brittany was able to see what she was doing now. Brittany's hands were warm and cold against Santana's thighs as she pressed down firmly, opening Santana up. Santana moaned again, whimpering as she felt herself completely exposed.

She couldn't see Brittany's face. But she could feel how tight her grip was on her thighs, and her hips rolled up as her fingers pressed against herself. She closed her eyes as her fingers continued circling, pressing and slipping against herself. Brittany's hushed moans joined hers, and she wanted to see Brittany's face more than anything.

"You're so beautiful." Brittany muttered as she watched Santana touch herself. Brittany's mind was going crazy with want to simply watch, and to join. She licked her lips again, fighting with herself as she gripped Santana's thighs tighter. She could tell Santana was close. Her voice was strained with pleasured gasps, and her thighs had begun to shake. "So beautiful." She whispered again.

And that was all Santana needed. As her eyes pressed tight she came undone, her hips bucking as her orgasm ripped through her.

Brittany's stomach tightened as she watched Santana uncoil. Her skin was buzzing with her own needs, but she just wanted to watch. Her nails scratched lightly at Santana's inner thighs, which only made Santana shake more. Brittany watched with wonder as Santana rode it out, silent whimpers begging for release at the back of her throat. But she swallowed them and remained silent, giving Santana her undivided attention.

When the last wave of pleasure shot through her, Santana groaned as she pulled her fingers from herself, getting ready to wipe them on the blanket beside her. But her movements were stopped when Brittany's hand flew to her wrist. She watched intently as Brittany brought them to her lips, sucking her fingers into her mouth as she cleaned them off.

"Uhh," Santana moaned, her hips rolling again as her arousal began to pull at her again. "You have no idea what you do to me." Santana whined, her lips curling.

Brittany turned to face her, her tongue licking teasingly around Santana's fingers. "Mhmm. I think I do." Brittany smiled, releasing her hold on Santana's wrist when her fingers were clean. She winked at Santana as she grabbed Santana's bikini bottoms and began to pull it over her ankles again. "What had you so turned on in the first place?"

Santana blushed deeper, her eyes raking over Brittany's hands as they pulled her bottoms in place. She watched as Brittany bent over and placed a feather-light kiss on her hipbone. "You." She whispered, air catching in her throat at Brittany's touch.

Brittany turned to her with wide, excited eyes, her lips still ghosting over the skin right above her bikini line. "Oh really?"

Santana nodded, her hands coming to rest over her stomach.

Brittany giggled, kissed her hip again, before rising into a sitting position. She lightly tapped the strip of Santana's belly that was left exposed. "Let's go crazy girl. I want to ride rides." Brittany smiled, watching as Santana's eyes continued to lighten as she came down from her high.

Santana felt her heart leap with utter joy and love, her mouth stretching into her dopey smile that was reserved for Brittany's eyes only.

Brittany saw the dimple in her cheek, and she couldn't help the way her smile grew to match Santana's. She helped Santana off the bed, planting a few kisses on puckered lips as they moved. She gracefully glided around Santana's room, throwing her a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top so they could go.

And Santana just watched and smiled, pulling on the clothes Brittany threw at her. She still felt buzzed at having been watched. It was new and frightening. But Brittany was smiling at her like she had given her a new kitten. And Santana knew she would do anything to keep that smile on her face. Even if that meant waiting in long lines at a stupid amusement park.

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><p>"I hate scary movies." Brittany whined, her brows scrunched as she peeked between the slits of her fingers. Another scream echoed in the dark basement as some guy with knives as fingers appeared on screen. She jumped a little, cuddling further into Santana's side as if she were trying to escape the guy on the television.<p>

After their afternoon at Cedar Point, Santana figured that it was her turn to pick an activity. So she chose a scary movie marathon, knowing Brittany would use her as her personal teddy bear. After popping some kettle corn, and pouring them both a glass of grape soda, they had settled on the couch ready for the movies Santana had picked out.

"He's not real, B." Santana mused, her hand stroking up Brittany's arm in a comforting manner. The pads of her fingertips skirted over the goose bumps that had risen over pale skin, and she pulled Brittany closer. "Are you really that scared?" She asked full of concern, her eyes tearing away from the screen to look sideways at Brittany.

Brittany just nodded, her fingers closing as the music announced the arrival of another killing.

"We can turn it off." Santana offered, her other arm coming across her front to grip Brittany's shoulder. "But I have to admit, I kind of like protecting you from pretend monsters." Santana airily laughed, her thumb stroking over a protruding collarbone.

Brittany turned her head to look up at Santana through parted fingers. "You do?"

"Mm hmm." Santana nodded, her lips curling into a slight smile. "Makes me feel needed." Brittany noticed the way her eyes lightened to a shade of milk chocolate, the warmth of them pulling her closer without her even realizing. "Plus, you're really cute when you're scared." Santana smirked, her finger coming up to trace the outline of Brittany's upper lip.

"How so?" Brittany pouted slightly, her bottom lip protruding to capture Santana's finger in a feather light kiss.

"Well," Santana began, smiling at the way Brittany wrapped one of her hands around Santana's wrist, holding her arm in place as her lips peppered kisses across Santana's knuckle. "Your eyes are more clear, like they're trying to warn the rest of your body that something bad is going to happen. But mostly, it just makes them look more delicious." Santana chuckled when Brittany looked at her with even more confusion.

"Delicious?" She questioned, her other hand dropping from her face, completely forgetting to guard herself from the monster on the television.

"Yeah. Like, inviting. Like I could swim in them, and never get lost." Santana smiled, mimicking the one that graced Brittany's slightly parted lips.

"What else?" Brittany prompted, eager to learn why Santana thought she was cute when she was so scared.

"Hmm," Santana mocked, her head cocking as she looked to the ceiling for answers. "Your cheeks get paler and rosier at the same time, and it makes your skin glow." Santana admitted a little shyly before her eyes resumed their hold on Brittany's. Santana watched as Brittany's smile grew, and she grinned when Brittany didn't even flinch as Freddy Krueger claimed his next victim. "I like the way you cling to me, like I can actually protect you from something so scary. As weird as it may sound, it reminds me of my dad. He used to watch scary movies with me when I was little." Santana's tone changed, and Brittany shifted their positions so she could look deeper into warm, brown eyes, wanting to catch every change in emotion that danced across them.

Santana saw Brittany's eagerness for more, and she knew Brittany loved hearing stories about her and her father. And she also knew Brittany would never ask for them, because a long time ago, Santana had made it clear they were off limits. But every once in a while, Santana would let slip a little story, and Brittany would drink it up as if she had been dehydrated for weeks.

"Every Friday night was our movie night. It was the one night a week we ordered out because mom worked second shift those nights. So we would get food and watch scary movies." Santana chuckled at the memory, and the unrealistic notion that a father probably shouldn't have let their five-year-old watch movies like Child's Play and Cujo. "I was so scared, but I never wanted to stop watching them." She shrugged, unsure as to why she never asked to watch something different.

Brittany shifted further into Santana, her arm looping and resting across Santana's stomach, her hand gripping Santana's waist. She nuzzled against Santana's shoulder, eyes still digging into Santana's for more.

"He would tell me when a really scary part was going to happen, so I'd close my eyes and bury my face into his shirt until it was over. My mother used to hate it. She'd complain that my dad was ruining me because I'd have nightmares and try and sleep in their bed. But he'd put me back in my bed, and he'd always sing me back to sleep. And then next Friday we'd do it all over again." Santana smiled, and she didn't realize she was gripping Brittany's arm so tightly until Brittany's face contorted in slight pain. "Sorry." Santana breathed, her grip loosening as she lowered her head to kiss Brittany's forehead.

"I like when you tell me stories about your dad." Brittany hugged Santana's stomach, the side of her face pushed flat against Santana's shoulder. Her eyes briefly flashed to the television screen, but once they saw blood, they snapped back to Santana's side. How could Santana ever watch this stuff when she was so young? It was way too scary now, and Brittany was sure she would have been scarred for life if she had seen this stuff when she was little. "Can I ask you something?" Brittany's words were muffled against Santana's shirt, but Santana could hear the way they softened and cracked a little with nervousness.

And that made Santana nervous. But she nodded and hummed in agreement, her fingers stroking through blonde hair as she waited for Brittany's question.

"You never talk about him now…and…I don't know…I just…do you miss him?" Brittany stuttered, afraid that her words would push Santana into another emotional spiral. She felt the way Santana stiffened and then relaxed just as quickly, like she was brushing off the little show of emotion.

Santana shrugged her shoulders and answered in a slight chuckle, devoid of emotion. "He's not dead B. He just works a lot."

"I know." Brittany responded quickly. She did know that. But she also knew Santana felt more about the issue than she let on. With all the stories from her childhood that centered around her father, to now barely seeing him, it had to mean something to Santana. "I was just wondering, that's all." She answered with defeat, her head rolling to the side as she glanced at the movie again.

Santana sighed, her fingers still stroking through Brittany's hair. It was complicated, and Santana didn't really want to explain all of it. A lot had to do with his change to second shift in the Emergency Room. And some of it had to do with her mother. And Santana wasn't really sure which part had the bigger influence. "Sorry, I just don't like talking about it okay?" Santana breathed against the top of Brittany's head.

Brittany nodded, her eyes shifting back to Santana's. "Okay. But can I ask one more question?" She wondered innocently, her voice fragile like she was scared even speaking certain words would break Santana. When Santana nodded, Brittany smiled as her eyes lightened with pure interest. "Do you miss him?"

Brittany watched something flash across Santana's eyes. It was brief, and dark, and she wasn't quite sure what it meant. But Santana's lips tightened into a thin line, her eyes fell to her lap, and she nodded. And that was all Brittany needed. And she knew that was all she was going to get. Because when Santana's eyes returned to hers, they were back to their original color of amber, and she smiled, the corners of her mouth not quite reaching her ears.

"Now let's finish the movie, so I can get my cuddle on." And her fingers poked at Brittany's ribs, tickling her side as Brittany smiled and squirmed, settling into Santana's side as they focused their attention back on the movie.

"I know one thing," Brittany began, her hands covering her face again. "I will never live on Elm Street."

Santana chuckled, wrapping her arms around Brittany and pulling her closer. "Don't worry. I don't like Elm Street either."

* * *

><p>Brittany shifted in her sleep, her knee bending before releasing with a muffled cry as she kicked Santana in the shin. Santana awoke with a start, confused as she tried to blink away the sleep in her eyes. She was about to roll over and go back to sleep when she heard another muffled cry, and felt Brittany's limbs spasm next to her. Unintelligible words spewed from sleepy lips as Brittany tossed and turned in her sleep.<p>

"Britt," she whispered, her fingers grazing Brittany's bare shoulder. Her skin was cool and smooth, with a trace of sweat, and Santana thought maybe she was getting sick. But then Brittany screamed out words such as "no" and "help" and "knives" and Santana knew she was having a nightmare.

"Baby," Santana cooed, her fingers gripping tighter to bring Brittany from her dream. When Brittany continued to thrash in her sleep, Santana rolled her over so she could see Brittany's face. It was scrunched in pain, and Santana could see the traces of tears in the corners of her eyes. "Britt." She tried again, this time shaking her shoulder. "Wake up. You're just dreaming."

Santana tried to smile, leaning over to kiss Brittany's lips softly. Brittany stirred, but started crying, her hands fighting off Santana as if she were the monster. "Get off. Help. Please. Saaaannntaaaana." She screamed, and Santana's heart plummeted in pain for her.

"I'm right here. Britt, you have to wake up." Santana shook Brittany a little harder, her grip still gentle as she tried to wake Brittany. She leaned forward and kissed her again, whispering against her pale and panting lips. "Wake up. I'm right here."

Brittany snorted into wakefulness, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to take in her surroundings. When her pale blue eyes settled on Santana, her body wracked a silent sob as she clung to Santana.

"Shh. It's fine. It was just a dream." Santana comforted her, her hands stroking Brittany's hair and sides, trying to calm her down. She felt bad, a pained guilt settled in her chest when she realized that she was responsible for Brittany's current state. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have watched the movie." Santana chuckled airily, her finger brushing away matted blonde hair from Brittany's sweaty forehead.

Brittany pulled herself closer to Santana, burying her head into the crook of her neck, as her limbs tangled in Santana's. "I told you I hate scary movies," she whimpered, clutching at Santana like she was a sleepy child.

"I know. I should have listened. I'm sorry." Santana breathed over Brittany's head, her hands rubbing circles on Brittany's back. "We'll never watch another scary movie again." Santana smiled, fingers digging into Brittany's shoulder blades to soothe her whimpered sobs.

Santana rolled over on her back, pulling Brittany with her, until her ear was pressed against Santana's chest. Her arms wrapped around Santana's back, holding tightly as Santana began to play with her hair.

"Can you help me fall back asleep?" She cried pathetically, and Santana would have found it utterly adorable if Brittany wasn't so helpless at the moment.

"What would you like me to do?" Santana asked, her voice like honey, coated with love. Brittany's stomach flipped at her tone, and she almost forgot her request to kiss the love from Santana's lips.

Instead, she tightened her hold on Santana, and asked softly, "Will you sing to me?"

Santana smiled even though she knew Brittany couldn't see it. "Sure." She shifted so her hands fell to Brittany's waist, her fingers circling Brittany's bare hipbones as she thought of something to sing. Her pointer finger slid under Brittany's tank top, above the waistband of her cotton panties, and began to swirl imaginary hearts around the dimples of Brittany's lower back.

_I remember tears streaming down your face_

_When I said, I'll never let you go_

_When all those shadows almost killed your light_

_I remember you said, don't leave me here alone_

_But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_

Santana's voice echoed in the dark room as the shadows of trees danced across her walls. Immediately Brittany began to relax. The feeling of soft fingers on her hips. The smell of coconut and honey penetrating her nose. The sound of her heavenly voice swirling in her ears. She closed her eyes as she allowed herself to completely immerse herself in Santana.

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You'll be alright_

_No one can hurt you now_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound_

Brittany could hear the steady beat of Santana's heart. She pressed her ear closer to Santana's chest, desperate to hear it louder. It was soft and sure. Rhythmic. Intoxicating. Brittany's heart fluttered as she breathed in deeply, trying to match her pulse and beat with Santana's.

_Don't you dare look out your window_

_Darling everything's on fire_

_The war outside our door keeps raging on_

_Hold on to this lullaby_

_Even when the music's gone, gone_

Brittany felt tears prick at her eyes again, but for an entirely different reason. Her stomach was heavy with butterflies as her heartbeat thudded in time with Santana's. She tried desperately to hold on to every word Santana was singing, like it was her own personal lullaby.

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You'll be alright_

_No one can hurt you now_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound_

Santana wanted to smile. She wanted to cry. She wanted to simply soak in everything that was happening. It was tragically beautiful. But somehow, she felt more vulnerable now than she ever had when they were having sex. As Brittany clung to her with everything she had, she truly didn't know where she ended, and Brittany began. And she figured that that was perfectly fine.

As the first round of "Ooooo's" and "La's" poured from Santana's lips Brittany began to feel sleep settle around her eyes and in her stomach. Her limbs felt heavy as her full weight fell on Santana as she slowly began to fall back asleep. She could hear Santana's voice float heavenly around her as she allowed herself to relax fully and settle into the comfortableness of Santana.

_Just close your eyes_

_You'll be alright_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound_

Santana could tell Brittany was falling back to sleep as she felt her body relax on top of hers. Her breathing was slower, and her heartbeat was quieter. Santana smiled as she closed her own eyes, finishing the song with harmonic ease as she drifted off, following Brittany into a peaceful sleep, her hands still tight and soft on Brittany's hips.

* * *

><p>Brittany awoke to the smell of maple syrup, and she couldn't help the smile that danced its way across her face as she rolled over. But she was met with a warm body, instead of the empty space she had been expecting.<p>

"Humph." Santana groaned as Brittany collided into her. She blinked her eyes open as Brittany kissed the tip of her nose. "Morning to you too." Santana husked raspier than normal, sleep heavy in her voice.

"You didn't have to bring me breakfast in bed." Brittany beamed, wrapping her arms around Santana as she pressed their foreheads together.

Santana's brow rose in confusion, until the smell hit her. Her smile faltered as she brought her hand up and delicately tucked a strand of blonde behind Brittany's ear. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I just woke up, and I definitely didn't cook anything in my sleep." Santana joked, her face scrunching when Brittany stuck her tongue out at her in jest. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Brittany smiled, her fingers scratching lightly at Santana's back.

They laid there in comfortable silence, ridding themselves of lingering sleepiness as Brittany's fingers roamed Santana's back, and Santana's fingers combed through blonde hair.

"How was the rest of your night?" Santana asked with concern. She wasn't sure what time it was, nor what time they had woken up in the middle of the night. She just wanted to make sure Brittany was able to get some sleep without nightmares.

Brittany nodded shyly. "Thanks for singing me to sleep."

"Anytime." Santana almost let slip a 'baby'. She wanted to, but she was confused. She didn't know where they stood. Were they dating? Were they girlfriends? Were they friends with benefits again? Were they ever that? She just didn't know. And she was so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing.

And she knew a lot of it was because of her. Because of her still being scared. And she cursed herself for putting them in this stupid limbo in the first place.

But Brittany smiled at her sweetly and kissed her nose again like it was the most normal thing, and Santana relaxed a little in her arms.

"I don't have a letter written, but I'd like to give you another reason." Brittany grinned, her hands dropping to Santana's hips, her fingers running over the cotton underwear that covered her butt. Santana's eyes lit up with eager happiness, and Brittany beamed in return. She leaned forward until her lips were grazing Santana's ear. "I can make you come without even touching you." She whispered, her voice teasing and husky.

Santana shuddered, her spine turning to liquid as Brittany's words poured into her ears. "Brittany Pierce. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Santana mocked, trying to deflect the growing pull in her stomach.

Brittany's face deadened into seriousness as she pulled back from Santana. "That's gross. If I kissed my mother that way I kissed you…"

"No, no." Santana chuckled, pulling at Brittany's shoulders to bring her closer again. "It's a figure of speech." Santana clarified, her heart swelling as she fell faster and harder for the blonde girl in her arms.

"Well that's stupid. Why would anyone make a joke about making out with their mother?" Brittany asked seriously, her nose scrunching as she tried to figure it out for herself.

"No. It's said when people say something dirty. Like why would someone want to kiss their mom, which is something sweet, not make out B, but like on the cheek, with the same mouth they talk dirty with." Santana explained, her voice airy with unshed laughter as she watched the wheels turn in Brittany's head to understand the saying.

"Oh. Okay." Brittany smiled, nuzzling into Santana's neck. "Well, it's still true. I can."

"I can't write that on my closet Britt." Santana chuckled. Her thighs slid together as she thought about what Brittany said, her actions yesterday still fresh in her mind.

"Why not?" Brittany pouted, her lower lip jutting out and running up the column of Santana's neck. "It's true isn't it?"

Santana shuddered again, her fingers digging into Brittany's shoulder. "B." She warned, her voice heavy and dry.

"Fine. You're in luck. I have another." Brittany smiled, kissing lightly at Santana's jaw before pulling back to look Santana in the eye. Santana laughed at the way Brittany could go from a pouting two-year-old, to a happy teenager in seconds.

"How many do you have?" Santana grinned, tickling across Brittany's hipbone.

"A million." Brittany answered automatically. "A billion trillion. A gazillion reasons." She exclaimed, her face scrunching as she let loose an almost childlike giggle.

Santana chuckled with her, her stomach fluttering at the jubilant sound. Her fingers pressed against Brittany's hips, her leg sliding between Brittany's thighs. "You're too cute. You know that?" Santana smiled as she kissed her.

"I know." Brittany giggled again, her eyes rolling playfully. "But seriously." Brittany straightened, looking Santana in the eye. "Reason one thousand and forty-two." When Santana cocked an eyebrow in amusement, Brittany ignored it and continued. "Your heartbeat matches mine." Santana looked at her in confusion, but Brittany's fingers were stroking her back in comfort and need, and Santana melted and waited for Brittany's explanation.

"When you were singing to me last night, and I was lying on top of you. I could hear your heart. And mine slowed to match yours. Until we were beating together, and I was able to fall asleep." Brittany rambled, her smile wide with unhindered love.

Santana wanted tell Brittany she loved her. That she would always love her. That she would do anything to keep loving her. But the words were stuck on her tongue, too heavy to be spoken.

So instead she smiled wide before kissing Brittany with everything she had. Like she had to make it count because it was the last time she would be kissing her, even if that weren't true. She just couldn't get enough, and as her lips slid against Brittany's, she knew that one day she would have the courage to tell Brittany everything she wanted to tell her.

"Now let's go get some breakfast." Santana offered as she heard Brittany's tummy grumble. She untangled herself from Brittany and scrambled out of her bed, stretching as her feet hit the ground. Brittany whined in protest, watching the way Santana's shirt rode up to display tanned hips and a little bellybutton. Santana rolled her eyes when Brittany groaned as she pulled shorts up her legs, throwing a pair at Brittany to put on as well.

They made their way downstairs, the smell of breakfast growing stronger as they made their way into the kitchen. "Morning mom." Santana greeted, hopping to the fridge to get them each a glass of milk.

Mrs. Lopez smiled before turning to find Brittany standing in the doorway, a baggy t-shirt and a pair of Santana's pajama shorts barely covering her body. It wasn't unusual, but something pulled at her, telling her that something was different. But she shook her head and smiled at Brittany warmly, telling herself that it was all in her head. Just because Brittany behaved a certain way, didn't mean her daughter did. Santana was raised to know the different between right and wrong, and she wasn't about to tell her daughter who she could be friends with. Brittany was welcome as long as she didn't try to corrupt her daughter, and she was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen.

Santana was a good daughter.

But as she watched Santana pour Brittany a glass of milk, handing it to her with a smile that she had never seen before, Mrs. Lopez wasn't so sure anymore, and angered curiosity began to rise to the surface of her skin. She watched them dance around each other in a way she never realized before, but she couldn't let her mind wander there. That was too disgusting and too terrifying to think about. And her daughter would never defy her by doing what she was thinking.

So she passed them each a plateful of french toast, smashed her lips together, and told herself that she would have a talk with her daughter after Brittany left.

"Honey, have you thought about what you're going to do this year?" Mrs. Lopez asked sweetly as she took a seat at the kitchen table across from her daughter and Brittany. She eyed them curiously, cutting up her own french toast before taking a bite.

Santana looked at her with confusion as she took a sip of her milk. Brittany was happy with her tasty breakfast, that she didn't really notice the silent exchange going on between mother and daughter.

"As far as Cheerios go." Her mother clarified, and instantly, Santana knew this wasn't going to be a civil meal. She kind of wished her and Brittany would have gone out for breakfast, or simply stayed at Brittany's house the night before. She was sure Brittany's mom would have made them breakfast without a hidden agenda.

"No. I haven't. I mean…"

"I think you should rejoin. It brought a sense of purpose to your life. Discipline. Structure. Routine." Mrs. Lopez interrupted, smirking at Santana over a forkful of french toast.

Santana wasn't really sure what to think. She hadn't thought about Cheerios all summer. And she sure as heck didn't know what her mother's angle was. But she didn't want to start an argument over breakfast, especially with Brittany sitting next to her. So she smiled curtly and nodded. "I'll consider it."

"It's not up for discussion." Mrs. Lopez almost bit back, and the harsh tone of her voice caught Brittany's attentions. She looked up from her plate at Santana, and then turned her head toward Mrs. Lopez.

Santana was a little mortified at her mother's outburst. Did she honestly think Cheerios was a gift sent from heaven to keep her daughter in line or some shit? Why on earth would she start an argument over this right now?

Santana wanted to fight back. She wanted to scream and say that it was her damn choice whether she rejoined or not. She wanted to remind her mother that she was seventeen and could make her own fucking choices about her extracurricular activities.

But Brittany could sense the tension. It was heavy and thick. And she could read the different emotions on Santana's face, mostly anger. And she just wanted it to go away so they could all be happy again.

"I think it'll be fun. We should rejoin together. Maybe get Quinn to do it too." Brittany beamed, her eyes flicking between Santana and Mrs. Lopez as they continued to stare at each other.

Mrs. Lopez's anger grew at Brittany's words, and she wasn't entirely sure why. But she backed down with a small smile, knowing they were far from done, but deciding it best to finish at a later date.

Santana watched as her mother returned to her plate, her own anger slightly lessening with Brittany's sweet interruption. But she knew her mother wasn't finished. She could see it in her eyes.

But she didn't want Brittany to be around when round two started. So she quickly started eating again, hoping that Brittany would want to go home to check on Kenzie or Lord Tubbington after they were done eating, and they could meet back up later. Because it was obvious her mother had something to say, and she was more than ready to fire back with reasons as to why Sue Sylvester was not the second coming.

If only she knew that her mother had more than Cheerios on her mind.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Emotionally exhausting chapter is exhausting. Bear with me :) As always, thank you for your continued praise and following, and special thanks to Frogs, my amazing beta. If you have questions, message me on tumblr.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten - I'm The Bravest Person She Knows<strong>

Santana was glad when Mrs. Pierce had texted Brittany after breakfast, asking her to pick up some chocolate milk. Santana promised to call her later, wanting to shower and clean up a little before her mother had a mental breakdown because she was sure her and Brittany had left a blanket unfolded in the living room from last night. She walked Brittany to the door once she came back downstairs from getting dressed, a sly smirk on her face that Santana couldn't read. She wanted to kiss her goodbye, but she wasn't about to risk it with her mother in the adjacent room. She settled for an awkward side hug, Brittany giggling in her ear. When the front door closed behind her, Santana turned and hurried toward the stairs.

But as soon as she passed the kitchen, her mother was there waiting. "Santana," she hissed with a tight-lipped smile. Santana's skin crawled. She was half-tempted to ignore it and proceed to the safety of her shower, but she knew her mother would follow her.

Santana's hands fidgeted in front of her as she turned and walked back into the kitchen. She rubbed against the knuckle of her thumb, her other fingers interlocking and squeezing together. But she couldn't stop them from shaking with slight nerves. So she balled them into fists at her side, composing herself because there was no way in hell she was going to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing she was nervous. She stood in the doorway, watching as her mother sipped at her coffee like it was a glass of vodka and cranberry, a slight curl of her lips around the rim.

She motioned with her eyes for Santana to sit back down at the table. And Santana obliged without a fight, slumping into the chair opposite her mother.

She waited. She watched as her mother watched her. She watched as her mother poured herself another cup. And she just waited.

She knew her mother was up to something. And she knew she was testing her. She wanted to see how far she could push Santana before she spoke up. And Santana knew that if she got an attitude with her mother, it would only lead to trouble. She had to remain calm and collected. So she kept her mouth shut and sat still.

"Do you remember Jean from work?" Her voice was cold, and her smile was fake. Santana narrowed her eyes and waited for the point, her arms crossed over her chest. Her mother's eyes dropped to look her over. "She helped with your Quinceañera." Her smile tugged at her lips like a snake, slithering its way into place as she waited for Santana to acknowledge her.

"I remember. What does – "

"She was telling me the other day how her son got a full ride to play football next year." She continued, interrupting Santana as she picked up her mug again.

Santana shifted in her seat, her nails digging into her arms. What did that have to do with anything? Didn't her mother want to persuade her to join Cheerios? What did some loser playing college football have to do with her? Was she supposed to be impressed because the guys at McKinley would never see the inside of a college football stadium?

When her mother didn't continue, Santana cocked an eyebrow in disinterest. "And I'm supposed to care because…"

"You're supposed to care so you'll have something to talk about on your date." Her mother stated calmly, as if it were the most natural and obvious thing for her to say.

And Santana couldn't help the shock that splashed across her face. That was the last thing she thought her mother was going to say. Her head was spinning, her heart was thumping, her stomach was swirling, and she mostly felt sick. Her palms were instantly clammy against her arms, and she fought like hell to keep her face as stoic and unfazed as possible. "Excuse me?" Her voice was raw and she didn't recognize it as her own. But she watched her mother closely, trying to decipher what was really going on.

"Your date. With Brad." Her mother clarified, almost annoyed, and Santana wanted to scoff at the fact that her mother was acting like she should be the one annoyed in the first place. Because she was pretty sure it wasn't her being set up on a blind date against her will.

"I don't have a date with anyone in the near future, let alone with some kid name Brad." Santana spat, hugging her arms closer to her chest. There must be vodka in her mother's coffee if she truly thought that she was going on a date with her coworker's son.

"Actually you do. He'll be picking you up on Friday." Her mother sat her mug on the table, crossed her arms in front of her, and smiled. And Santana shivered. She had never seen her mother act this way. They've had their fights, maybe a little more than a normal mother-daughter relationship, but never had Santana ever seen her mother like this. Her eyes were black and oval, narrowed and wide at the same time. Her cheeks were rosy with warmth, and Santana couldn't decide if it came from the heat or something more. Her mouth was pressed tight but formed into a smile that Santana wouldn't wish on her worst enemy.

For the first time in her life, Santana was actually terrified of her mother, and she wasn't exactly sure why. And that was the part that made her shiver.

She didn't understand, and she hated not knowing. She hated not being able to know the reasons behind someone's behavior. She hated it. And she hated it more when it was directed towards her.

The feeling of being sick bubbled in her stomach, and she wanted to be free from her mother's gaze, but she couldn't move. So she fought back. She wasn't going to be like those stupid birds that stick their heads in the ground and think they're safe just because they can't see the danger coming.

"I'm pretty sure the era of blind dates was two centuries ago. And since I'm neither Indian nor a thirteen-year-old, I think I can pick my own dates just fine."

"When _was_ your last date Santana?" She asked coldly, and Santana knew she had dug herself into a hole she couldn't climb out of. She couldn't answer that because she knew it would give her mother the exact answer she was looking for. The last _date_ she was on involved Brittany, and she's not even sure if that was called a date in the first place. And the last boy she went on a date with was Puck, and that was almost two years ago. Even Sam hadn't taken her on a date.

She gulped, her mind racing to find an answer to satisfy her mother. What did it matter when her last date was? Did her mother actually care that much about her social life? "I…uh," she coughed, trying to clear her throat. "I was dating Dave at the end of last year." She lied, hoping not to sound as scared as she felt.

Her mother eyed her over, judging her, and Santana felt defenseless. Like she had been sent to battle without a weapon or a shield.

When her mother's eyes returned to hers, she smiled, small and bright. "Well then consider it nonnegotiable. It'll be good for you to get out. Who knows, maybe he'll be the one." Her mother added with a wink. A fucking wink. And Santana wanted to strangle her.

She opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn't find the words. Excuses and lies danced across her tongue, tickling her throat and begging to be released. But nothing came out. She wanted to scream and say that she was sort of dating Brittany, and that she loved her, and that was why she couldn't go on a date with some stupid boy that her mother deemed suitable.

But those words were deep in her gut, not even threatening to come out.

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, and she fought with everything she had to keep them inside. She would never forgive herself if she cried right now.

Before she could fight with herself to do something, her mother got up from the table and ended the conversation. No room for further debate. And Santana wasn't even sure she had an argument to give her mother.

Her tears were spilling from her eyes the second she stepped in her room. She tried to hiccup them back, to keep desperate sobs from wracking her body. The backs of her hands scraped at her eyes, swiping the moisture away before it could roll down her cheeks.

She was naked before she realized she even started taking off her clothes. The shower was running, and the bathroom was steaming up with hot air. Too hot for a summer day.

She avoided the mirror. She knew if she saw herself right now she wouldn't be able to stop crying.

She stepped into the shower, and moved under the spray of the scalding water. It burned her skin. Shocking her with the reminder that nothing had changed. She was still scared. She was still not ready. She was still in the closet. She was still a coward. She was still lying.

Her skin turned red in seconds, but she stayed underneath the water. And when the physical pain matched her emotional pain, she finally allowed herself to cry. She gave in, her body heaving and cracking with broken sobs. Her tears mixed with the hot water, running down her burning skin and sifting through the drain at her feet. Her hands gripped at her skin before supporting her body against the tiled walls of the shower, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

She cried until her eyes burned. Until her body ached. Until her skin felt raw.

And then she cried a little more.

* * *

><p>Only when the water turned cold did Santana notice she had stopped crying. She felt drained, yet still heavy. And when she shut the water off, she realized she didn't even wash her hair or body.<p>

She wrapped herself in a towel and stepped from her bathroom, standing in her room unsure what to do.

She still felt sick, and she wanted to call Brittany. But she didn't know what to say to her. Would Brittany be upset? Would she be okay with one date just to please her mother? Would she be disappointed again?

She dressed in a daze, slipping a pair of jean shorts and a tank top over her burned skin, wincing when the fabric agitated it. She didn't bother drying her hair, letting the wet strands cling to her bare shoulders.

She knew she couldn't keep this to herself much longer. She knew she had to find the strength to finally be honest. She knew this. But it didn't make the idea of it any more appealing.

What if she just went on one date? She could get her mother off her back, and she could just tell Brittany he was just a friend.

No. She wouldn't lie to Brittany. She couldn't. She wouldn't take two steps forward and three steps back. She just couldn't.

She also promised Brittany she wouldn't push her away anymore. She promised. And that was something Santana really wanted to keep.

She needed more time to tell her mother. And she just hoped Brittany would understand that.

She walked toward her dresser for her phone, ready to call Brittany and tell her. But the banner across her screen when she unlocked it, signaling the presence of a new message, stared up at her.

_Britt_

_Check under ur pillow ;)_

Santana's brows rose in confusion, a small smile on her face as she walked back toward her bed and flipped over her pillow. Underneath sat a new letter, her name scrawled across the front of the folded paper in Brittany's cursive writing. She chuckled despite herself, wondering how she could ever doubt Brittany when she always managed to surprise her, and give her things exactly when she needed them.

She also wondered when Brittany had the time to write her a letter, considering they had woken up together and ate breakfast together before she left. She reasoned that the only time Brittany had been alone in her room since waking up was when she changed to go home.

Santana had stayed in the kitchen with her mother.

And the thought that Brittany had taken that little amount of time to scribble down words of love made Santana's eyes water with new tears. Happy tears.

Santana sat on the edge of her bed and unfolded the paper. Droplets of water dripped from the ends of her wet hair, rolling down her back as they soaked into her tank top.

_Dear Santana,_

_Morning beautiful, even though we've been up for a while. Breakfast was yummy, and it reminded me of that time from Cheer Camp freshman year. Do you know what I'm talking about? We were in charge of making breakfast for everyone, and we had no idea what we were doing. You had pancake batter everywhere, and my bacon kept burning. And every time I got a good piece, you ate it because you said it smelled so good._

_I remember when you had some batter on your nose, and when I reached to wipe it off, you leaned forward and kissed me. And it was the first time you had kissed me in public. Yeah, nobody was there, but you still did it. And I remember how happy I was. You were so cute when you smiled after, like it was normal for us to kiss just because. But we had never done that before. And I could tell then how shy and nervous you were, but you tried to act all cool about it. _

_Anyways, you eventually showed me how to make french toast, because you said your mom always made it on Sunday mornings. I asked why we didn't just do that in the first place, and you looked at me like I had four heads. Which would be really cool. Do you know how much kissing I could do with four heads? That would be so awesome. _

_Your mom seemed kind of weird this morning, maybe she didn't sleep well. I know when I don't sleep well, I'm kind of cranky in the morning. But rejoining Cheerios does sound fun. I know I've missed it a little. Maybe Coach won't be as bad this year. I hope she doesn't try and punish us for quitting last year. I hate being a quitter, but she wanted to shoot me out of that canon._

_I just wanted to say I love you. I feel like I don't tell you enough. And you need to be reminded that I do. Because someone as awesome as you should be told how awesome they are._

_All the time. _

_And I know you love me too. And even though I can't show everyone else how awesome you are yet, I know you're trying now. I know you're getting there._

_I know you're still scared, but I'm so proud of you. My mom talks about you all the time now, which is weird, cause like she's known you forever. But now she acts like you're so special, which you are, but I tried explaining to her that just because we're whatever we are (are we dating?) doesn't mean you're a different person. _

_When you're done showering and stuff, come over. And we can hang out at my house, where you're always welcome, and free to just be you :) _

_And just so you have another piece of paper to stick on your closet door, to remind you how special you are every day. _

_Reason: You're the bravest person I know._

_See you soon._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce_

Santana folded the paper back up and dropped it to her bed. Her hands were shaking, and she could hear her heart beating in her ears. Brittany had so much faith in her. Too much. And that's why she knew she couldn't lie to Brittany about Friday. She had to tell her, and tell her why she had to do it.

Brittany was wrong about one thing. She was not brave.

And she was too scared to tell her mother she couldn't go on the date. Not without a valid excuse. And Santana still wasn't ready to tell her parents the truth.

Or maybe Brittany could help her think of an excuse to tell her mother. Brittany was good at making up stuff.

Santana jumped off her bed and walked to her desk, pulling out a piece of tape. Grabbing the letter from her bed as she walked to her closet, she taped the entire paper to the door, underneath all the other reasons Brittany had given her over the past few months.

Ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut, she focused on getting to Brittany, and having her help with her ridiculous mother.

* * *

><p>"What's cookin' good lookin'?" Brittany beamed as Santana entered her room. She sat with her legs crossed on her bed, Lord Tubbington sprawled at her feet. And the smile she had plastered across her face was infectious, and Santana couldn't help the way she smiled in return. She felt better just seeing Brittany.<p>

She dropped her keys and phone on Brittany's dresser and strode to the bed. She definitely couldn't help it when she pecked Brittany's lips. Quick and sweet.

"What was that for?" Brittany smiled wide, her eyes searching Santana's as the bed dipped next to her with Santana's added weight.

"Because you're you." Santana admitted honestly, leaning forward and kissing her again. Brittany giggled against her lips, pressing closer to Santana's mouth in the process.

"I like this side of you." Brittany smiled when Santana sat back, looking around the room to see what Brittany had been doing before she got there. When she came up empty, she focused her attention back on Brittany, smiling like she had been caught when she realized Brittany had said something.

"Hmm?" She tilted her head, eyes smiling when Brittany looked at her with that look that made her feel like she was special. Like she could do no wrong. It was impossible not to feel invincible when someone was looking at her the way Brittany was looking at her. How could one person make someone feel so special? But that's how Brittany made her feel. And Santana's smile faltered a little when she realized what she had to tell Brittany.

"I said I like this side of you because you look so happy." Brittany repeated, fingers walking up Santana's bare calf and tapping against her knee.

"Well I hope you continue to like me after I say what I have to say." Santana breathed, her dimple showing when one corner of her mouth lifted slightly. Brittany's smile fell, cocking her head in confusion as her fingers continued to run over the bones of Santana's knee. "I, uh -" Santana coughed, eyes lowering for a second until she found the right words to say. "My mom set me up on a date on Friday."

She watched as Brittany's face scrunched before falling, eyes searching for the punch line to a joke that didn't exist. When Santana's face remained stoic, pleading with mocha orbs for Brittany to understand, Brittany's fingers stilled on Santana's leg. "What?" Brittany asked, voice dripping with confusion.

She didn't understand. Was there a joke she didn't get? Her mind was racing with thoughts she couldn't follow. Did Santana want to go on a date? Was she waiting for her to ask her out on one? And since she didn't, did she go looking somewhere else? Brittany was so confused. She thought things were getting better.

Santana could feel Brittany's hand shaking against her knee, and she draped her hand over it to quiet it. She felt like the worst person in the world. She hated seeing Brittany look like this. Like she was disappointed, confused, and hurt all at the same time. And it was a whole lot worse when that face was because of Santana.

"Are you…I thought…am I not enough?" Brittany asked, her voice so small and quiet, breaking at the end as she tried to hide her disappointment.

Santana squeezed Brittany's hand beneath hers, her other coming up to cup Brittany's cheek. "Brittany, you are more than enough." Santana stated firmly, eyes never wavering as she tried to make Brittany believe that above anything else. "You are perfect." Santana half-smiled, leaning forward and pressing her lips to Brittany's to reaffirm her point.

"Then I don't understand." Brittany squeaked, her lips pressed tight as she tried to think why Santana was saying this, and why she was doing this.

Santana let out a puff of air in frustration. "It's my mother. She thinks it'll be good for me for some reason. Believe me, I don't want to go." Santana stroked the back of Brittany's hand. When she saw Brittany's eyes flicker with slight hope, she swallowed and continued, fingers wrapping around Brittany's wrist. "I was actually hoping you could help me think of an excuse to get out of it."

"Really?" Brittany's tone was louder and softer, less broken. When Santana nodded and smiled, Brittany returned it easily. "Just tell her you don't want to."

"Have you met my mother? She doesn't really care about what I want." Santana huffed out a chuckle, her hand dropping from Brittany's cheek to grab Brittany's hand and cradle it between both of hers.

"Say you have to wash your hair. I use that all the time." Brittany smiled as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh really?" Santana smirked. "So when you said you had to shower the other day, you were actually just avoiding me. Good to know." Santana smiled wider when Brittany giggled, her fingers tickling at Santana's knee.

"Not with you. I always want to hang out with you." Brittany teased, sucking the corner of her mouth in as she smiled. "How bout something to do with glee club?"

"I don't think that'll work. She hates that I'm in glee club." Santana pursed her top lip, trying to think of something that would be good enough to get her out of the date. She was pulled from her nonexistent imagination when she felt Brittany remove her hand from Santana's knee. Her eyes widened in confusion as Brittany shifted, until she settled down on her bed, her head resting in Santana's lap. Santana immediately smiled, her hands running through Brittany's hair.

"I'm sad and sorry." Brittany mused a little later, comfortable to lay in silence with Santana's fingers doing magical things to her hair.

Santana's hands stilled, her eyes narrowing as she wondered why on Earth Brittany would be sad or sorry right now. "Why?"

Brittany expelled a puff of air, tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth, her brow and nose scrunched adorably. "Because. I'm sad that you can't tell your mom the truth. And I'm sorry I'm sad about it."

Santana's heart swelled with guilt because Brittany should definitely not be apologizing. She had every right to want Santana to be honest with her mother. To tell her that the reason she couldn't go on the date was because she was in love with someone else. With Brittany. And Brittany had every right to want that.

Santana should be the one apologizing. She should be the one sad because she was making Brittany wait so long. Santana eyed Brittany curiously as she turned in her lap, and brought her own hand to wipe at her cheeks. She realized Brittany's cheek was wet, and she wondered why Brittany was crying. Until Brittany reached up and wiped at her cheeks. She didn't realize she had been the one crying.

"I didn't mean to make you sad." Brittany pouted, her finger wiping over a pinked cheekbone before tapping at the end of Santana's nose.

"No." Santana whispered, one of her hands wrapping around Brittany's wrist, bringing Brittany's hand to her mouth so she could kiss her knuckles. "No. You didn't make me sad." Santana smiled, feeling even more stupid that she was making Brittany feel worse about herself. "You deserve to feel how you feel. I'm the one who should be apologizing. So just stop. Because you didn't do anything wrong."

Brittany smiled up at her, and Santana's heart fluttered as thin lips curled and twisted into perfection. The look on Brittany's face was indescribable. Santana immediately felt sad for people who would never have someone look at them like Brittany was looking at her. There was so much love and trust pooled behind baby blues that Santana didn't know how to react. So she smiled and bent forward, grazing her lips across Brittany's teasingly. When Brittany giggled and tried to move her head to connect their lips, Santana drew back and smiled.

"Tease." Brittany whimpered, puffing out her bottom lip as she continued to try and meet Santana's lips.

"You love it." Santana grinned, enjoying playing with Brittany as she moved her mouth just out of reach.

"Maybe." Brittany smiled with a pout. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to kiss you right now." Brittany crossed her arms over her chest and settled back into Santana's lap.

Santana couldn't resist and kissed Brittany, wrapping her lips around Brittany's bottom one, sucking gently. "You're too cute when you pout." Santana mumbled against her mouth, smiling against Brittany's lips as she pressed them against her own.

"I'm always cute." Brittany clarified with a wink, giggling as Santana poked against her sides.

Santana watched as Brittany relaxed back into her lap, blonde hair falling over her tanned legs. She wanted to be brave for her. She needed to be. Because Brittany deserved it. She deserved more than that. She deserved to have someone who was so unbelievably proud to be with her. To show her off. To tell everyone just how special and amazing she truly was.

"I'm going to tell her." Santana swallowed, her mouth dry as she thought of what to say. Brittany watched and waited for clarification, slightly confused at the shift from playfulness to serious conversation. "I'll tell her something important came up, and I can't go on the date. I know it's not what you want, but it'll buy me some time until I can think of how to tell her the truth. Because I'm going to tell her Brittany Pierce. I just need a little more time." She chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously, hoping that Brittany would see how hard she was trying.

Brittany smiled and nodded. She wanted Santana to tell her mother, not because of her, but because it would mean everything for Santana. To have other people know about her so she could be happy to be herself. That's all Brittany wanted. To see Santana finally happy and accepting of herself. And she could tell Santana was getting there. Maybe it would take a few more days, or a few more weeks, or maybe even a few more months, but Santana was trying, and Brittany was happy with the progress she was making.

"I love you." Brittany grinned, nothing but sincerity lacing her voice. Santana smiled, her dimple indenting her cheek as she leaned down and kissed Brittany again. And again. And again. Santana couldn't think of anything better than kissing Brittany.

She was so happy. Her and Brittany were happy. Brittany's mom knew about them and didn't care. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe she was making a bigger deal out of things than what they really were. Maybe her mom would see how happy Brittany made her, and she would be shocked at first, but would come around eventually.

Because there definitely could be nothing wrong with how Santana felt about Brittany. And there definitely could be nothing wrong with kissing Brittany. How could something so right be wrong? It was impossible. And Santana was beginning to think her mom would feel the same way. She couldn't possibly hate her for loving someone as amazing as Brittany.

"Wanna sleep over?" Brittany asked as Santana began to play with her hair again, braiding a few of the strands together.

"Can we eat ice cream and watch 10 Things I Hate About You?" Santana smirked, finishing the tail of the braid.

"Definitely. Can I lick ice cream off of you?" Brittany deadpanned, watching as Santana's cheeks colored and her eyes darkened a little.

"You're ridiculous." Santana chuckled, one hand rubbing at Brittany's scalp, the other running down a bare arm. She tried to keep herself from getting too flustered, hoping to keep the control for the evening.

"You love me though." Brittany's eyes flashed with a smile and Santana relinquished her power without a fight. If Brittany was the one in control, Santana was sure she would always be satisfied.

* * *

><p>"Mom, I'm home." Santana called as she shut the front door. The house was dark, but she saw her mom's car in the garage, and she could smell fresh linen coming from the laundry room.<p>

Brittany had dropped her off on her way to Kenzie's soccer game, promising Santana could spend the night when it was over, sealing it with a kiss on the cheek. She had asked if Santana wanted to come along, but the thought of watching a bunch of little kids run around trying to kick a ball in a net did not seem appealing. No matter how much she loved the girl asking.

She looked in the kitchen as she passed, and found it empty. Seeing the living room empty as well, she figured her mother was either napping, or running an errand with Mrs. Raezer.

She still needed to tell her mother she wasn't going on the date. She just didn't know how to bring it up. But she promised Brittany she would do it today.

As she made her way upstairs, she noticed her parent's room door was open. She walked towards it, her palms sweaty with nerves. This was it. She was seventeen years old. She didn't have to go on a date if she didn't want to.

The room was dark, and Santana almost turned back around until she saw her mother's silhouette sitting on her bed. She would have screamed in shock if it weren't for the eerie feeling that immediately overcame her. She swore she could feel every hair on her arms stick straight up as she took in the way her mother was sitting.

She wasn't moving, and she was staring at the far wall. Santana could see her reflection in their dresser mirror. Santana knew her mother saw her, but she refused to turn and acknowledge her presence.

And that was the point that had Santana sick to her stomach. Something just didn't feel right.

Maybe she got some bad news from work. Or maybe her father called and cancelled their plans or something. She didn't want to add more trouble to whatever was going on with her mother, but she knew that if she didn't' tell her now, she would chicken out.

"I, uh," she coughed, clearing her throat. "I rejoined Cheerios, and Coach has a mandatory meeting on Friday. So I can't go on the date." Santana breathed unevenly, her hands trembling in front of her. She let out a sigh of relief for having found a great excuse, glad to be done with her mother's ridiculous plan.

But still her mother didn't move. Santana saw her chest rise and fall with her breathing, so she knew she was at least still alive. And she figured no response was as good as any. Maybe since she wasn't yelling at her, or telling her she had to go, meant that she didn't care about it anymore.

So Santana exited the room and practically ran down the hall to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She flopped down on her bed, fully intending to watch trashy reality shows until Brittany was done at her sister's game.

Halfway through an episode of some city of Real Housewives, her bedroom door snapped open, slamming against the adjacent wall with a loud bang. Santana jumped on her bed, her heart racing like hummingbird wings.

Standing in the doorway was her mother, her face the coldest Santana had ever seen it. Her lips were pressed tight and angled down. Her eyes were so dark and narrowed, Santana couldn't see her pupils. And there was no light or warmth behind them. Just empty coldness.

"Mom," Santana barely whispered. Her body was shaking, and she was fighting with everything she had not to show it.

"Mom." Mrs. Lopez mocked, her voice icy like freezing rain. Santana instantly wanted to be anywhere but there. Something was definitely wrong, and the strong smell of alcohol diffused through her room with her mother's presence.

"Did…did something happen at work?" Santana stuttered, hands clenching the edge of her shorts to keep herself still.

The noise that left her mother's mouth was the scariest thing Santana had ever heard. She shivered, and she knew her mother could tell she was scared.

"You stupid little girl." Her mother snarled, her words slurred as she took a few tentative steps into Santana's room. Santana knew she was drunk. She could smell it on her, and she could see the color in her cheeks. Her movements were sloppy and sluggish, and all Santana could do was watch her come closer, anger now like fire behind her eyes.

Santana wished Brittany was there. Not so she could witness her mother like this. But so they could go back to her house and not have to deal with this at all. Whatever had her mother upset would pass as soon as she sobered up.

"Mom." Santana tried again, but was quickly interrupted by her mother leaning against her desk.

"You have some nerve young lady." Santana pulled her feet underneath her, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"I don't –" Santana shook her head, not understanding what was going on. And she felt helpless, like all she could do was watch it all unfold. Maybe it was about the date, and it just hit her mother now, and that's why she was suddenly upset. "Is this about the date?"

And instantly she regretted asking that, because the laugh her mother let out was more of an evil cackle.

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?" Her mother sneered, gripping the edge of Santana's desk so tightly, her knuckles were ghostly white. "You think you have the right to behave like you do. To make a mockery of our family name."

Santana wanted to laugh at how ridiculous her mother sounded. It's not like they were some royal family that needed to keep their name clean. But she couldn't. Because the way her mother was looking at her, like she had committed some type of crime, had Santana frozen to where she was sitting.

"I don't understand," Santana almost cried. Her nails were digging into her thighs so hard that she was sure she was going to draw blood.

"You're sick. You need some help." Her mother said evenly, taking another swaying step in front of her desk.

"What?" Santana's eyes watered as her brow scrunched in confusion. She felt like she was going to throw up, the nerves in her stomach were so jittery and severe. She winced when she felt her skin crack beneath her nail. Where was Brittany? Wasn't the game over by now?

"You have been taught what's right and what's wrong. And this behavior is unacceptable. I will not tolerate it." Her mother took a few more shaky steps, her eyes never wavering from Santana's.

When Santana realized where she was headed, her stomach plummeted, and she actually had to swallow back the bile that bubbled up from her throat. "Wait! –"

Before Santana could say anything, her mother flew open the closet door, revealing all the reasons Brittany had given her. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she blinked, everything happening too fast for her to comprehend.

"How?" Santana whispered, her voice thick with tears.

"How?" Her mother snapped. "How? I find this…" she gestured to the door, "while trying to put away your clean clothes. And all you can say is _how_." Her mother squared her shoulders at her, sizing her up. "You little bitch." She spat, her hand coming up and ripping once of the pieces of paper from the door. "If this is your idea of acting out and trying to get our attention, you've taken it a little too far. Did you purposely think of this idiotic behavior just to see how I would react? Because you're desperate for attention?"

"Mom, please." Santana cried, her body trembling as she spoke.

"No daughter of mine will behave this way." She continued, ripping more of the papers off the door and tearing them in pieces, before allowing them to fall to the floor. "You will get the help you need, and we will never speak of this again."

"Mom, stop!" Santana got up from the bed and walked toward her mother, her legs shaking as she moved. "Let me explain." She begged, grabbing for her mother's arm as it ripped the last of the paper in two.

Her mother turned around, and before Santana knew it, she felt the sting of her mother's hand on her cheek. She instantly covered the hot skin, fresh tears leaking from her eyes.

"Explain?" Her mother's voice was loud and high pitched. "There is nothing to explain Santana. Whatever you think is going on is a lie. You're confused. And I will not allow it."

Santana cried, her body shaking with each broken sob that ripped from her chest. "But I love her." Santana pleaded, eyes glossy and puffy with tears. She saw the muscles in her mother's face tighten, and she swallowed back more cries. "I love her."

"Watch your tongue." Her mother warned, her back straightening to make herself taller and more threatening. "You're speaking about a great sin Santana."

"Mom." Santana reached for her mother's hand again, but she pulled it back like she had been burned. And Santana was horrified at the thought. That her mother couldn't even touch her without feeling ashamed.

"It's just because Brittany's so jovial. She's like a child. She was brought up not knowing the difference between right and wrong. When you stop hanging out with her, you'll see it was just all in your head." Her mother's eyes were so dark that Santana could see her reflection in them. Her voice was sharp like a knife, the words she was saying cutting into her and tearing at everything Santana believed to be true.

Brittany was not a child. She was smart and empathetic. And it wasn't in her head. Her feelings for Brittany were real, and they were mutual, and her mother just needed to understand that. It was just new to her. She needed to see that she was still the same person. Still her daughter. "You can't make me stop seeing her. She's my best friend."

Mrs. Lopez stepped closer to her daughter, her face cold and still, like it was made of stone. "She's corrupted you to believe in something that is a sin Santana. Could you imagine what people would say if they heard about this?"

Santana scoffed and rolled her eyes. This wasn't about other people anymore. This was about her and Brittany. Why couldn't her mother understand that? All her mother ever cared about was what other people thought of her and her family. Couldn't she, for once, just care about her daughter and what she wanted? "I don't care about anyone else. All I care about is her."

Her mother smacked her again, her cheek burning as she took a few steps back. She could feel her skin growing red as she staggered to regain her footing. Her eyes stung with tears, and she couldn't believe how this conversation had turned so bad. Would it have been better if she had told her mother before she found out? Or was all her initial thinking about her mother not accepting her really true? She couldn't believe this was happening.

She looked at her mother will hurt filled eyes, silently pleading for reassurance. That this wasn't going to end badly. That this wasn't really happening. That her mother just needed a few minutes to process everything, and then it would all be okay.

"Get out." Her mother demanded, pointing her finger at the open door.

And all hope Santana had drained from her face, falling to the floor like the ripped up pieces of paper that contained hers and Brittany's relationship, like a shredded diary.

"What?" She squeaked out past chapped lips, her voice thick and heavy. Her face crumpled in utter confusion. What had she done that was so terrible? She really just wanted to rewind time and do things differently. And she honestly couldn't decide which things she would do differently. But she knew she didn't want to be kicked out of her house just because she was in love with Brittany. It just didn't seem fair.

"I said get out. I will not have you being under this roof with you saying these things." Her mother's lips were set in a straight line, the edges of them white from how hard she was pressing them together.

"But…where?" Santana swallowed, her voice breaking. This wasn't happening. This was just one of her nightmares. She had fallen asleep while waiting for Brittany, and she was just having a nightmare. This wasn't happening.

"That is not my concern anymore. You chose this. You can find somewhere else to live. You want to be ungrateful and do such disgusting things, you can do them somewhere else." Her mother spat at her. And for the first time Santana actually felt disgusted. Not because she loved Brittany. But because the world didn't think her love was real. She felt disgusted that the people in her life didn't like her just because she was in love with a girl.

Santana wrapped her arms around her chest to try and hold herself together. "Mom, please." She cried. She felt like maybe if she just tried a little harder, her mother would soften and just listen, and see that it wasn't a big deal. That being with Brittany as more than just a friend didn't change who she was. It didn't make her different. Just maybe a little nicer. But that shouldn't be a good enough reason to kick someone out.

"I said. Get. Out. You are not welcome here anymore." Santana searched her eyes for any wavering, and found none. Her mother had made up her mind.

Santana stood frozen a few seconds longer, until her mother arched an eyebrow at her challengingly. So she turned toward her closet to grab some clothes, but her mother moved to block her way.

"Now." She hissed, and Santana couldn't believe her mother was not only kicking her out, but also refusing to let her gather some stuff together.

Santana hiccupped out one last sob before she turned on her heels, grabbing her phone as she exited her room, running through the hallway and down the stairs, not looking back once until the front door was closed behind her. She turned on her front porch, looking back at her house through blurry eyes. She shook her head, not understanding how everything had gone so wrong, or how she was now technically homeless.

She didn't grab her keys, so she couldn't drive. She didn't really know where to go either.

She tugged her tank top further down her stomach, clutching the fabric harder than she needed to. Swallowing her tears, the saltiness sliding down her mouth like bitter salt water, she started walking. She had her phone, but she didn't know who she could call. She couldn't tell anyone the reason why she was kicked out. And Brittany was at her sister's game.

She didn't have anyone to call.

So she just walked. Her head was spinning so fast, she thought she was going to faint. Her stomach felt sick, but she knew if she threw up, nothing would come up. Everything she had feared had been true. Her own mother kicked her out of her house because she thought she was doing something wrong. People would look at her differently, just because she loved someone that they didn't agree with.

With each step she took, she felt sicker and sicker. Her cries had turned to whimpers, barely audible sounds wracking her body as her eyes remained bloodshot and glossed over. Her feet felt so heavy as she lifted them to walk, like they were covered in cement. She just felt numb.

She didn't realize where she was walking until she saw the familiar lamppost in their front yard. She had practically grown up at that house, and she would have laughed at the irony of her subconscious taking her there if she had any emotions left. She knew they weren't home. Brittany hadn't called her yet. So she walked up their driveway to their front porch, and sat down. She pulled her knees into her chest, dropped her head to her lap, and allowed the last remaining tears she had to fall as she waited.

* * *

><p>When Santana heard a car approaching, she realized the headlights were shining on her as it pulled into the driveway. She blinked as she looked up, wondering how long she had been sitting there since it was now dark out. Her eyes burned and she felt so tired.<p>

She wasn't even aware of a body running towards her as she stared into the headlights of the car.

"San," Brittany asked with worry, dropping to her knees in front of Santana. Her hands immediately went to Santana's face, noticing the stains of tears and the redness of a handprint on one of them. "What happened?"

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She closed it and shook her head, new tears pooling in her eyes. She wondered how much a person could cry in one day, because she was sure her body was just about out of tears.

"Oh honey." Brittany's voice was layered with concern. She turned her body until she was sitting next to Santana on the porch step, and pulled a very broken form of her best friend into her side. Her arms wrapped around Santana's head and stomach, rocking her back and forth. "It'll be okay." She whispered into raven hair, over and over again like a mantra.

The headlights of the Pierce's car were turned off, and Santana was vaguely aware of more approaching footsteps, but she tried to focus on Brittany's comforting words and hands. She could feel herself slipping away, and she needed something to hold on to. So she clutched at Brittany's chest, burying her head in the hollow crook of Brittany's neck, and cried. She cried as the rest of Brittany's family sent them sympathetic looks as they walked past and into the house. She cried as the neighbor walked their dog past the house. She cried as she heard the rest of Brittany's family go to bed.

All while listening to Brittany repeat the same words over and over again. "It'll be okay. Honey, it'll be okay."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I am sorry that I caused some tears with the last chapter, but I wanted to make it as realistic as possible, and even though it's sad, that happens to a lot of teenagers. Thank you for all the responses you gave! There's only a few more chapters left. Also, I wrote a one shot for what happened after Brittana left the Sugar Shack in Heart, which can be viewed on my tumblr under my fic page (Heaven is a Place). Just a warning, it's not for children :) And as always thank you Frogs for being the best beta!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven - You Are My Sunshine<strong>

Brittany felt Santana's body go limp against her side, her quiet sobs fading into a soft, sleepy murmur. When she was sure Santana had fallen asleep, her body completely exhausted, Brittany scooped her into her arms and carried her inside. Santana felt heavy and almost nonexistent at the same time, and Brittany mustered all the physical and emotional strength she had to cradle Santana in her arms. She didn't know how to make things better. She felt completely helpless as she carried Santana's broken and fragile body to her bedroom, carefully laying her down on her bed.

Santana's body involuntarily curled into a ball around Brittany's pillow, her back rising and falling with each slow breath she took. Brittany wanted to slip off Santana's jean shorts and replace them with her favorite pair of pajama shorts, the ones with kittens on them. They always made Brittany feel better. But she didn't want to wake Santana, afraid she would only start crying again.

Brittany changed out of her shorts and took off her bra, moving around her room in just a tank top and underwear. She grabbed the sheet that was bunched at the bottom of her bed, draping it over Santana's body. She tried very carefully to scoot across the mattress until she was pressed against Santana's back without waking her, but as she settled under the sheet, she felt Santana stir.

Hoping she wouldn't fully wake up, Brittany kissed Santana's shoulder with soft puckered lips and gentle reassurance. "It's okay," she whispered into smooth skin. Her arm fell around Santana's waist, pulling her closer. Brittany didn't want to let her go. She felt like the only thing she could do for Santana was just hold her, remind her that she was going to be okay and that she was loved, and hope that Santana wouldn't wake up a shell of the girl that had slowly been blossoming this past summer.

When Santana didn't stir any further, Brittany allowed herself to relax for the first time since she got home, her own eyes shutting in exhaustion.

* * *

><p>Santana's eyes burned, and she felt the hard, crustiness of dried tears in the corners of them, clumping her eyelashes as they scraped against her skin. When she opened them a little crack, she felt sudden fear at not being in her own room. Her heart plummeted to her stomach before her eyes took in their surroundings. Her pulse began to slow down as she realized she was safe, the confines of Brittany's room coming into focus.<p>

And then yesterday came rushing back to her. Everything that had happened flashed through her mind. Her body froze. Her eyes snapped shut. Her breathing quickened.

She was hoping it had been a very bad nightmare. But the warm body pressed against her back, holding on to her like she was going to disappear, was enough evidence that it hadn't been a dream. The way Brittany was holding her felt like a sliver of sun in the middle of a blizzard. The hot puffs of air against the back of her neck as Brittany breathed in her sleep were comforting. She tried to focus on them, but the sting of her mother's hand on her cheek started fresh tears in her eyes.

She felt so empty and lost, like one of those people who were trapped under the snow in an avalanche. And she prayed some big dog with a good sense of smell would find her and save her from being lost forever.

She didn't realize her body was shaking with tiny sobs until Brittany shifted behind her, tightening her hold around her waist. Santana felt the press of soft, sleepy lips against her skin, and she melted into Brittany, crying at the fact that someone had already saved her from her avalanche.

"Honey, it's okay." Brittany murmured, voice thick with sleep and exhaustion. Santana wondered how long Brittany had actually been able to sleep. She didn't even know what time it was now. It was still dark out, but Santana wasn't sure if that meant it was late at night, or really early in the morning.

"Britt." Santana squeaked, her hand pressing flat against the one resting on her stomach.

Brittany awoke further, sleep fading from her body as she heard the desperation in Santana's voice. "I'm here." She kissed along the outline of Santana's shoulder. "I'm right here."

Santana sighed and rolled over, her eyes full of more tears that she tried to hold back. Brittany pressed butterfly kisses to the apple of Santana's cheeks, hoping to stop their impending flow. "I'm right here." She whispered against fragile skin, her arm curling around Santana's back and her fingers running up and down it soothingly.

Santana nodded, willing her tears to go away. "I'm sorry I keep crying." She tried to laugh, but it came out strangled and insincere.

"Do not apologize for that." Brittany immediately answered, her eyes flicking back and forth between Santana's. "You have done nothing wrong." Brittany stated firmly. She needed Santana to know that. To know that what was happening right now was not her fault, and she had every right to cry. Brittany didn't understand a lot of things, especially why Santana's mother had acted the way she had. But she completely understood that it was not Santana's fault.

Santana nodded again, weakly, and she buried her face into the crook of Brittany's neck. "I was hoping it was all a bad dream." She breathed, fists clutched to the front of Brittany's tank top.

"I wish I could say it was," Brittany offered. She never had to experience what Santana had, and she really didn't know what to say to make things better. All she could think to do was love Santana, and hope that everything would be okay eventually.

"Do your parents know?" Santana asked, her voice small and soft. Like if she continued to speak everything really would be a reality.

"Know what?" Brittany wasn't exactly sure what she was asking. Her mom already knew about them, and Santana knew that because of how she had found out. And she was pretty sure her mom had told her dad, because he always gave them a funny little smile when Santana was over now.

"About what happened yesterday. Why I'm here." Santana uttered slowly, her voice hitching and breaking. Santana felt Brittany's head nod above her, and she let out a heavy sigh. "Are they upset I'm here?"

Brittany pulled back from Santana, and she stared down into frightened brown eyes. "Baby they talked to you last night, don't you remember?"

Santana shook her head. She vaguely remembered other people besides Brittany on her front porch last night. But the only words she could recall were Brittany's comforting ones, and her soothing arms holding her tight.

Brittany's lips slid into a sad smile, pulling Santana back against her chest. "They were really worried. And they could see you shaking, even though they couldn't feel it like I could. So my dad took Kenzie inside before she could bug you. And my mom kneeled in front of you, and tried to talk to you. But you wouldn't answer her. And you wouldn't look at her. So she told me to hold you and never let go. And that if I needed her for anything, to come get her." Brittany replayed the events in her head, knowing she would always remember the way her mom had looked at Santana. She had been so worried, and so concerned, like it was her own daughter who was hurt and crying.

Santana didn't respond. She definitely did not remember that happening. But as Brittany recounted it, bits and pieces of it started to click together. She felt worse for worrying Brittany's family. For showing up on their porch in the middle of the night crying, and not even bothering to explain.

"Do they," she swallowed and coughed, moving back from Brittany's shirt as she cleared her dry throat. "Do they know now?"

Brittany peered down at swimming brown eyes, glossed over and shining from the glow of the street light through her window. She shook her head, her hands firm and warm at the small of Santana's back, afraid that if she let go Santana would leave the safety of her room. She didn't know where Santana would go, but anywhere besides lying next to her was unacceptable for Brittany. "I didn't know if you wanted them to know."

Santana nodded, her eyes dropping to the scoop of Brittany's tank top. Her fingers unclenched from their fists, tracing the neckline of it as she tried to think about everything that had happened so quickly.

"Can I ask you a question?" Brittany whispered, fingers pressing into the fabric of Santana's shirt in little circles. She felt Santana's hesitant nod, her messy hair tickling the underside of Brittany's chin. "I don't like it when you're sad. And I hate it even more when I feel like I can't do anything about it. Lord Tubbington always told me that when people are sad and there's nothing I can do, then I should just tell them how much they're loved. So I want to say I love you. So much."

"That's not a question Britt." Santana let out an airy laugh, sadness coating her throat and making her voice deep and heavy.

"I'm not finished silly." Brittany giggled, pulling Santana closer against her, molding their fronts together like two halves of one of those plastic Easter eggs. "Will you let me take care of you?"

Santana smiled against Brittany's chest. She knew Brittany felt helpless and just wanted to help make her feel better. But there was nothing Brittany could do that would change things right now.

But Brittany needed something. So if she wanted to take care of her. Santana would not deny her of that.

"Of course B. I don't know how you can, but you're welcome to do whatever you want." Santana breathed against her skin, hands tucked safely between them.

"Are you still sad?" Brittany asked, immediately hating how ridiculous that sounded because of course Santana was still sad. She wanted to take the words back, but she hadn't quite learned how to do that yet. "I'm sorry. That was stupid." Brittany fumbled to try and fix it, hands squeezing tighter. But when she felt hot tears against the front of her tank top, and a shaking body beneath her fingertips, she knew she couldn't fix it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry again. Of course you're still upset. You have every right to be." Brittany rambled, her heart hammering against her chest. She felt so bad and so stupid for making Santana cry. When all she wanted to do was make things better.

She panicked, palms pressed flat against Santana's spine as she tried to think of something to calm Santana down.

Santana always liked it when she danced. But dancing didn't seem like a viable option right now.

Brittany thought of the next best thing.

"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine." She softly sang, voice barely audible over Santana's sobs. "You make me happy when skies are gray." Brittany closed her eyes and willed her own tears to go away. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." She finished, kissing the top of Santana's head.

She felt Santana's cries slow and quiet a little, but Santana refused to uncurl herself from Brittany's chest.

"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine." She began again, hands beginning to move up and down Santana's spine in a calming and soothing manner. "You make me happy when skies are gray." She could feel Santana quiet down completely, her fingers wiping over her eyes as her knuckles brushed across Brittany's chest. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you." Brittany sang, her words soft as a feather as they tickled across Santana's forehead. "Please don't take my sunshine away."

Santana focused on the sound, Brittany's voice wafting through her ears like floating steam. She breathed it in and tried to relax. She tried to forget about the sting of her mother's hand and words. She tried to forget about the look of complete disgust written across her face. She tried to forget all of it as Brittany's voice surrounded her.

"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine." Brittany started again, much softer and gentler now that Santana was calmer. "You make me happy when skies are gray." She felt Santana pull back a little, her teary eyes meeting shining blue as she tried to find an anchor to pull her to safety. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you." Brittany smiled, leaning down to press kiss after kiss against Santana's forehead. "Please don't take my sunshine away." She breathed into Santana's skin, sealing the song with a lingering kiss.

"Thank you." Santana whispered, fingers gliding down a pale shoulder and freckled arm.

"Don't thank me. I'm the one who made you cry in the first place." Brittany kissed down Santana's temple and cheek, trying to kiss away the evidence of her hurtful words.

"No you didn't." Santana shook her head, swallowing down the remaining tears. "You didn't make me sad." Santana clarified, sighing as Brittany continued to kiss away the streaks of tears over her cheeks. "You make me happy." Santana smiled as Brittany's kisses became sloppier and cuter as she kissed over Santana's nose. A giggle bubbled up from Santana's throat and soon she was laughing.

She laughed as Brittany wiggled her nose against her cheeks. She laughed as Brittany began tickling her sides, rolling her over until she was flat on her back with Brittany straddling her hips. She laughed as Brittany pressed sloppy kisses down her cheeks and neck, claiming she was just cleaning up the mess she created.

Santana laughed and laughed until she couldn't breathe. Brittany's hands stilled at Santana's sides, watching as her face lit up for the first time since she had showed up on Brittany's porch yesterday.

Brittany's smile fell to complete adoration as she looked down at the beauty lying beneath her. Her eyes were still puffy and red, and her cheeks glistened with smeared wetness. But she was still the most beautiful thing Brittany had ever seen.

Santana grew uncomfortable under Brittany's scrutinizing gaze, shifting underneath Brittany's strong legs. "What?" She smiled bashfully, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked away.

"You're so beautiful." Brittany muttered like it was the most obvious thing.

"I'm fairly certain that's not true." Santana mused, watching as Brittany's smile only grew as she nodded her head frantically.

"You are. Very. Very. Beautiful." Brittany emphasized, shimmying her hips against Santana's. She could feel Santana's body completely relax beneath her, letting out a relieved sigh as she bent over and hovered above Santana. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Should I prepare myself to cry again?" Santana joked, chuckling at the adorable pout that overtook Brittany's face. "I'm kidding." She smiled, wrapping her arms around Brittany's back and holding her on top of her.

Brittany stared down into dark eyes, watching as every ounce of fear and sadness slowly seeped out of them. "Can I kiss you?" Brittany whispered, her tongue darting out to wet eager lips in anticipation.

"Always." Santana breathed before tender lips pressed against hers. Santana kissed her back, taking Brittany's bottom lip between her own. Her head was swimming and her heart was thumping, and she felt a little overwhelmed with how softly Brittany was kissing her.

"Can I ask you one more question?" Brittany kissed against Santana's top lip, sucking on it gently as she waited for Santana to respond.

"Brittany," Santana whined. She didn't need to keep asking permission to ask her more questions. Brittany was always allowed to ask and say whatever she wanted.

Brittany sat up at the teasing sound of Santana's voice, creating enough space so she could look into dark chocolate and be able to read them. "Well I don't know if you want to, or if this is even a good time to do it, because I don't really know the right things to say and do right now." Brittany rambled, fingers tracing lazy patterns around Santana's collarbone.

Santana smiled and laughed at Brittany's utter lack of knowing exactly what to say or do. It was the most comforting thing Santana could ask for. She didn't want someone telling her the things everyone always said after something tragic happened. She loved the fact that Brittany was different. Because different was exactly what Santana needed.

Brittany took a deep breath and smiled, her nerves lessening when she saw how relaxed and happy Santana actually was at the moment. She brought her hand up to gently glide a strand of raven hair off of her forehead. "I want to take care of you. And comfort you. And I want to do that by making love to you." Brittany admitted, smiling with a hint of blush as Santana stared up at her. "I just don't know if that's the right thing to do after everything that happened."

"I don't think there is a right thing Britt." Santana's voice was soft and fragile, and Brittany wanted to kiss the brokenness away. Santana saw blue eyes drop and Brittany swallow with defeat. Her hands fell from Brittany's back to grip her hips. "And I'd much rather have you do things you want to do than what's supposedly the right thing to do. Because I'm positive that it'll be a million times better."

Brittany's lips curled until her eyes shined with love and complete happiness, before she pressed kiss after kiss to Santana's mouth. She kissed the corner of Santana's lips and across her cheek, the lingering taste of salty tears still present. She sat back on Santana's thighs, gripping the hem of Santana's shirt to pull it over her head.

When Santana fell back against the mattress, wild black hair falling in all directions, the sight took Brittany's breath away. Her dark skin contrasted the light blue of her sheets, causing her skin to glow in the dark. Her hands skirted over breathing ribs and bra covered breasts, simply admiring every inch of skin that was available to her.

She wanted Santana to feel loved. She wanted her to feel beautiful and special. Like she was a gift from God, to treasure and appreciate and worship. Like she was one of the wonders of the world.

Feather soft lips ghosted over her collarbones, dragging over the flesh with hardly any pressure. Santana's back arched as those lips traveled down the valley between her breasts, kissing her chest bone above the fabric of her bra. Her skin prickled with goosebumps. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to the way Brittany made her feel.

Brittany's hands snuck behind her back, unclasping her bra, and sliding the silk straps down tanned arms. Her mouth pressed light kisses to the curve and swell of Santana's breasts, taking in the way caramel skin buzzed beneath her lips.

She kissed over each rib, counting them in her head as she went. The plane of Santana's stomach caved as lips pressed against the top of her bellybutton, tickling her in a way that was pure excitement. Her lips dragged over Santana's stomach as her hands fumbled with the button to her jean shorts.

Santana lifted her butt off the bed to aid in Brittany's disposal of her shorts and underwear, her heart beating in her ears. Brittany's hands were soft and gentle, warm and careful as she grazed up nervous calves and shuddering thighs. Each touch felt purposeful and full of love, like she was mapping out every inch of Santana for future use.

Santana's body froze when Brittany's lips traced over the heated outline of her, tongue running through her like melted butter. Her hands gripped at the sheets at her sides, balling them in her fists as the middle of her spine left the mattress. She felt tears pool in the corners of her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from rolling down her cheeks, creating new paths as they fell off her chin. She bit her lip to keep the sobs inside. She didn't know why she was crying as Brittany's tongue flicked against her, and she definitely did not want to alarm Brittany and make her think that something was wrong.

Brittany pulled her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the sweetness as it coated the inside of her cheeks. She kissed over wet folds and down the crease of Santana's hip, making sure to worship Santana's body like it deserved to be. When she kissed across her lower abdomen, she felt the first shake that definitely wasn't from arousal. She looked up to see Santana's eyes clamped shut and her cheeks sparkling with fresh tears.

"Baby, what's wrong?" She sat up alarmed, scooting towards Santana as she hovered over her body. She wiped at a falling tear, concern written across her face as she watched and waited for Santana to open her eyes and tell her what was going on.

Santana breathed in deep, willing herself to get her shit together before she scared Brittany. "It's nothing. I'm fine." Santana whispered, shaking her head to convince Brittany and herself.

"Obviously not. You're crying." Brittany wanted to giggle to lighten the mood, but she was too concerned. Had she done something wrong? Was she moving too fast? She knew it was stupid to want to have sex with Santana after everything she had been through.

"I'm fine. Please." Santana cried, her hands still gripped tight to the sheets.

"San." Brittany worried, her own eyes glossing over as she watched Santana's face go from love and pleasure, to a degree of sadness she didn't understand.

"Please Britt. Just love me." Santana cried openly, her voice thick with tears as they rolled from her eyes and down her cheeks. "Please," she begged, and Brittany's heart broke.

Santana was crying, begging her to make love to her, and it was breaking Brittany's heart. She was so broken and more fragile than Brittany had thought, and trying to have sex with her right now was ridiculous. Brittany hated that she had even voiced the idea.

She grabbed the comforter from the bottom of the bed and pulled it over Santana's naked body, curling up next to her and scooping her in her arms.

"No. Please Brittany. Please love me. Please." Santana cried, even though she was curling into Brittany's arms like a scared child.

Brittany felt her own tears seep from her eyes, unable to hold them in any longer. How could she ever expect Santana to open up and make love to her when her wounds from yesterday were so fresh? Forcing Santana to relax and give herself to Brittany in that way was impossible without opening herself up to all the pain that yesterday had been.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think…I wasn't…I'm sorry." Brittany breathed against Santana's forehead, holding her closer. "You are loved. I do love you. I'm so sorry."

Santana cried harder, her whole body shaking against Brittany's as the grip around her broken frame tightened. "Why doesn't she love me?" Her voice cracked as a sob wracked from her parted mouth.

Brittany felt powerless and helpless and somewhat to blame for Santana's crying. She should have known better, but Santana said it was okay. But she should have known that it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to try and have sex with someone that just suffered something so tragic. She should have known that Santana wasn't ready to open herself up to something so full of emotion when she had cried so much earlier. She should have known that doing the thing that had caused the fight with her mother in the first place was definitely not okay.

"Why doesn't she love me?" Santana cried again, sniffling as she clung to Brittany like a life raft. "What's so wrong with me?"

"Nothing." Brittany almost shouted, swallowing as she cleared her throat and repeated in a softer tone. "Nothing sweetheart. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

Santana turned her head until her cheek was pressed flat against the hollow of Brittany's neck. "Then why doesn't she love me?"

Brittany sighed, every part of her body hurting for the tiny girl in her arms. "She does love you."

Santana shook her head, her cries slowing as Brittany rubbed at her back. "How do you know? She kicked me out. She told me she was disgusted with me. She told me that I was just confused and needed a cure."

Brittany's breath hitched at the awful things Santana's mother had said to her. She figured there had to have been more to the story than just a slap to the cheek, but she never would have guessed that her mother would have said such disgusting and untrue things to her own daughter.

She kissed the top of Santana's head, holding her closer until she could feel Santana's heartbeat against her own. "Because sometimes people do cruel things when they're afraid of the unknown."

Santana didn't respond. She wasn't sure Brittany was entirely correct, but it was better than thinking that her mother really didn't love her.

As the slight hint of the sun began to shine through Brittany's window, and as the birds began to wake and start their morning song, Santana fell asleep from pure exhaustion. Brittany listened to her uneven breathing before she allowed herself to slip into sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring Santana a little bit of happiness.

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><p>Brittany woke before Santana, her eyes sore and a little crusty. She took a minute to breathe in the girl still sleeping in her arms before peeling her body away. She tucked her comforter around Santana, and pulled on a sweatshirt and shorts before heading downstairs. Her mother and father were sitting at the breakfast table, two cups of coffee and bowls of cereal in front of them. She poured herself a glass of orange juice before joining them, propping one foot on her chair as she sat.<p>

"Morning bumblebee." Her father smiled over the top of his newspaper. She offered a tiny smile in return, sipping from her glass as she glanced over the front page.

"How is she?" Her mother asked, her face soft and caring, and Brittany wanted to curl up in her lap and have someone hold her for a little bit. She was trying to be so strong for Santana, but she didn't know what to do. She felt like everything she said or did was going to remind her of what happened and upset her. She just felt a little overwhelmed.

"She's sleeping." Brittany answered, pulling her father's unfinished cereal towards her and taking a spoonful to her mouth. "She cried a lot."

"Swallow first, then speak bee." Her father spoke into the morning paper without even looking at her.

She rolled her eyes playfully before doing as she was told. She took another sip of her juice before looking at her mother. "I don't know how to make things better."

"What happened?" Mrs. Pierce questioned, finishing the last of her cereal.

Brittany sighed, looking down at the soggy cereal floating in milk. "I've been writing Santana letters. To show her how much she means to me." Brittany's voice was soft and hesitant. She didn't know what was acceptable to say and what wasn't. When she looked up at her mother, her eyes sparkled with complete interest and concern, making Brittany continue. "In every letter I gave her a reason why we should be together." She swallowed, hoping it was okay to say this stuff.

When her mother nodded in understanding, Brittany smiled and picked at the edge of the placemat in front of her. "Santana taped each reason on the inside of her closet door. I found them once, and I was so happy. Because it meant that she was taking what I was saying seriously. Which is ridiculous to think she wouldn't, because she always takes what I say seriously. She's like the only person who does." Brittany mused, her cheeks warming a little at the act of talking so openly about her and Santana in front of her parents. This was the first time she was talking about their relationship in front of her dad, but he had to have known because he was acting as if everything was normal.

"Well yesterday her mother found them and said some really mean things to Santana and she slapped her and kicked her out." Brittany breathed and her mother gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"That's awful." She mumbled behind her hand, slowing lowering it to the table as she stared at her daughter with slight unbelief. "She must be so scared. What kind of mother would hit their own child?" Mrs. Pierce asked, glancing to her husband as she wondered aloud.

"She thinks Santana's sick because she loves me." Brittany continued, thinking that was the answer her mother was looking for.

Her mother looked at her with wide eyes. "That is…" she swallowed as she shook her head. "That poor girl. She's just a child." Her mother nearly cried, and she turned her head to hide her tears.

Brittany watched with awe at the stark contrast between her mother and Santana's. It was unbelievable how one could be so loving and accepting, and the other so hateful and judgmental. It didn't make sense to Brittany. She didn't understand why Santana had to get the short end of the stick because someone like Santana deserved to be told every day how special and amazing they are, and how much they're loved. Especially by her own mother.

"I…" Brittany began, but was interrupted as Santana stepped into the kitchen, her hair piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. Her eyes were very red and puffy, and she had put on a pair of Brittany's shorts and an old Cheerios' sweatshirt.

"Hi." She spoke softly, afraid she was interrupting something important. She felt like she was overstepping her boundaries by being here, and she hated the feeling of being unwelcome. The thought of having nowhere else to go if they kicked her out too crossed her mind, and she had to swallow back the bubble of cries that threatened at the back of her throat.

"Morning honey." Mrs. Pierce smiled, standing and walking toward her. Before Santana could even shoot Brittany a questioning look, Mrs. Pierce wrapped her arms around Santana, crushing her in the tightest hug she had ever received. "I am so sorry sweetheart." She whispered in Santana's ear, squeezing her once before letting go. Her hands remained on Santana's shoulders, looking down into sad and scared eyes. "And you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Santana blinked as her eyes watered, forcing a smile across her face. "Thanks." She breathed, her hammering heart making it hard for her to say anything else. She walked around the table to stand beside Brittany, sitting Indian style in the wooden chair.

"Can I get you something to eat? Drink?" Mrs. Pierce offered, her smile strong and friendly, warming Santana instantly.

"Do you have some extra coffee?" Santana asked timidly. Brittany watched her, thinking she looked so small sitting around their kitchen table. She watched as her mother poured Santana a cup and sat back down. She watched as Santana talked to her dad about something she didn't care about. She just wanted to watch her all day. Just to know that she was here and okay, and as long as she wasn't crying, that maybe everything really would be okay.

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><p>Two days later, Brittany came running into her room to find Santana sprawled across the floor as she painted her fingernails, Lord Tubbington curled into her side. Brittany smiled at that because Santana always acted like she hated him whenever she was around. It was good to know that they were best friends when she was gone.<p>

"Jeez B. Where's the fire?" Santana smiled as she coated her pointer finger in dark red.

Brittany's chest moved in rapid succession as she tried to catch her breath. She had a doctor's appointment earlier, and her mom had needed her car today because hers was in the shop. And she hated the idea of leaving Santana by herself all day, so as soon as she was done, she sprinted home, deciding she needed the exercise anyways.

"Just missed you." Brittany smiled leaning over to kiss the top of Santana's head. "And I see you've made a friend." Brittany smirked and nodded her head in Lord Tubbington's direction.

Santana rolled her eyes and continued her work. "He was the only breathing thing here to keep me company."

"I think you two are more alike than you think." Brittany played along, sitting down next to Santana as she picked up Lord Tubbington and plopped him in her lap.

"Why? Because we both love pussy." Santana joked, putting the brush inside the container to coat it in more polish.

Brittany gasped before shielding Lord Tubbington's ears. When Santana looked at her with a knowing smirk, she giggled, letting her cat go as he stalked out of her room and down the hall. She watched as Santana finished her nails, blowing on them to make them dry faster.

"So what do you want to do today roomie?" Santana smiled, sitting up in front of Brittany as she continued to blow dry her nails.

Brittany shrugged her shoulders, her cheeks coloring at the sound of roomie coming out of Santana's mouth. It made her think of college and the possibility of them living together even after that. "Whatever you want to do." She offered instead, picking at the carpet underneath her.

Santana scrunched her face, her eyes almost completely disappearing as she laughed in the way that always drove Brittany crazy. "Whatever I want huh?"

Brittany smiled and leant forward, kissing her as she laughed. "Not sex San."

Before Santana could respond, they heard a knock at the front door downstairs. Santana looked at her with her brow raised, wondering who in the world would be knocking.

Brittany shrugged her shoulders again as she hopped up and exited her room. Santana looked over her nails, making sure she hadn't smudged any of them yet as she heard Brittany open the door and a male voice ring through the house. She figured it was probably the mailman needing a signature for a package or something, so she carefully stood up and walked toward Brittany's bed.

Just as she was about to sit down, she heard Brittany call her name, telling her to come downstairs.

Santana wondered how she was needed to sign for a package when she didn't live here, but she decided not to second-guess Brittany. She made her way downstairs, keeping her eyes on her nails as she walked to make sure she didn't mess up the fresh polish that wasn't quite dry yet. She almost ran into Brittany, stopping behind her as she looked over at her. "What's up?"

Brittany didn't answer. She was staring at the man in the doorway.

Santana followed her gaze and when her eyes raked over the man, she froze. Her knees felt immediately weak, and she was glad Brittany was always able to read her. She felt strong hands on her hips, holding her up as she blinked in the sight in front of her. When she was sure she wasn't making it up, she swallowed as tears blurred her vision.

"Dad?"


	12. Chapter 12

****A/N: I split this chapter into two chapters because it was getting too long. So there will be at least two more chapters. Thank you for all your feedback. And special thanks to my beta Frogsrcool. 

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve - I'm Her Thorny Rose<strong>

"Dad?" Santana's voice squeaked. She wanted to run into his arms. But at the same time she didn't. She didn't know why he was here, and as much as she wanted him to hold her and make everything better, she wasn't going to allow her body to get hopeful and be let down.

But she couldn't help the way her knees shook or how her eyes watered. She really didn't want to cry.

She hated that her body was betraying her inner struggle to remain unfazed.

She willed her mind to make the connection to the rest of her body. As her limbs remained frozen in Brittany's hands, she took her time looking at her father. It had been so long since she last saw him. He looked older, worn. His hair had a little more white in it than she remembered. Her eyes welled, wanting more than anything for him to pick her up in his arms like he used to do so long ago.

But she didn't know what he knew or why he was here. So she waited, sinking back into Brittany's grasp. "What…what are you doing here?"

She was so confused.

It had been three days since her mom kicked her out. He had to have known. Surely he would have come sooner if he cared. He was never around much anymore, so it's not like he ever went against her mother's way of parenting.

Is that why he was here now? Did he come to yell at her too?

But there was something in his eyes that was familiar and comforting.

"Can I come in?" He asked after studying his daughter.

Brittany looked to Santana for permission even though it was her house. It seemed like the right thing to do. But Santana didn't give her an answer. When she turned back to Mr. Lopez, his eyes flashed with something unreadable. Was she supposed to leave so they could talk in private? She didn't think Santana could stand by herself right now. So she stood and continued to hold onto Santana, thinking that if Santana didn't want her here, she would tell her.

But Santana still didn't move. She didn't know what to say. Mr. Lopez took her silence as a no and looked at her with even more care than she thought he possessed. The corner of his mouth quivered before he sucked it in as if to compose himself.

"What happened?" He questioned, almost out of breath, like he had been running a marathon or something. The edges of his eyes were red and raw, like he had been crying. Santana couldn't remember ever seeing her father cry before.

"What do you mean?" Her face scrunched in confusion. He had to have known, so why was he acting like he didn't? Did he really not know what happened? What had her mother told him? Did he know all the details? Why was he only here three days later? She had so many questions, but she couldn't get her mouth to work properly.

His eyes flicked between Santana's and the way Brittany's hands gripped his daughter's waist so protectively. "Peanut, why are you living here? I came home this morning looking for you cause I had news, but your mother told me you didn't live there anymore. Why don't you live at home?" He looked to Brittany before settling back on Santana. "What's going on?"

Santana swallowed hard. Of course her mother hadn't told him. She would want Santana to do it herself. Her mother was so disgusted with it that she couldn't even tell her husband. Like even saying it and acknowledging it, even just the little bit to tell her father would be entirely too much.

"I…" she swallowed again. Her throat was so dry that it felt like she was swallowing tiny needles, pricking at her from the inside. Brittany squeezed her hips, but otherwise remained silent. "I uh…can we sit down?" She gestured inside the Pierce's house with her head.

He could see the faint blush of something; fear, embarrassment, sadness? He wasn't sure. But he could tell by the way Brittany was holding her that it was serious. He nodded his head and followed the two of them as they walked further into the house. His eyes remained on Brittany's hands at the small of his daughter's back, and watched as they settled on the couch. He sat on an adjacent recliner, his focus on the way Santana's eyes stayed glued on the carpet beneath her feet.

"Peanut?" He coaxed, voice gentle but full of concern.

Her eyes snapped up to look at him as Brittany reached over and took one of Santana's hands in her own. "Mom kicked me out." She breathed with defeat, her voice weak and small. She looked at Brittany and found bright and reassuring blue eyes.

"Kicked you out? What? Why?" Mr. Lopez croaked, moving to sit on the edge of the chair as he leaned towards his daughter. Santana had to be mistaken, because his wife would never do that to their daughter. She must have misheard, or they just had a bad argument and things were blown out of proportion.

Brittany squeezed her hand again and nodded, encouraging her to continue. Santana tried to force a smile, but it came out crooked and weak, her nails digging into the back of Brittany's hand. She knew Brittany didn't care that it probably hurt, she could see it in her eyes. Santana wanted to thank her for being here because she honestly couldn't do this by herself again. She turned back to her father, trying to find the right words to say. "Because she found something she didn't like. About me." Santana knew she was being cryptic, but she was scared. And she couldn't stop her hands and voice from shaking.

"Santana please, just tell me what's going on." His hands fidgeted in his lap, tanned calloused fingers stroking over worn knuckles. She could tell he was nervous, and she knew she wasn't helping by being hesitant.

Santana glanced back at Brittany again, needing a surge of courage to tell her father. She knew he was different than her mother, but that didn't mean she wanted to disappoint him too.

"Dad," she began, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper. "I um…Brittany and I…" she lowered her eyes to gather herself, and when she looked back at her father, all she saw was the way his lips were turned into a half smile full of love, and the way his eyes were wide with concern. She swallowed back the tears in her throat and held onto Brittany's hand like a safety blanket.

She was tired. And Brittany was there and telling her with just a look that everything was going to be fine, no matter what. And her father genuinely looked concerned, and he had come over looking for her. That had to mean something right?

She was so tired of lying. Tired of being afraid of what would happen if people knew. Tired of pretending to be someone she wasn't. She was just tired.

And telling him seemed like the only way not to be tired anymore. So she took in a deep breath, bracing herself as the words tumbled from her mouth.

"I love Brittany as more than just a friend." She exhaled, her knuckles turning white as she gripped hard to Brittany's hand. "I've loved her for a very long time, and I've hated myself for it. Because I was brought up to hate it. Mom made it very clear that being different was not okay." She took a breath as she felt her voice starting to shake again. "It meant gossip. And judgment. And she didn't want me disgracing the family."

She felt like she was cutting off the circulation in Brittany's hand, and yet she felt like she was barely holding on. Every word tasted dry and brittle, like stale bread, but she couldn't stop speaking.

When her father looked at her like that wasn't true, she wanted to scream. What mother would allow their sixteen-year-old daughter to get a boob job? What mother would encourage skipping meals to lose an extra pound? What mother would make their daughter do a sport they no longer wanted to do just because it was socially accepted?

But Brittany's thumb ran over her knuckle and she felt the fight drain from her. There was no point in arguing over everything when that wasn't the point. Santana shook her head and focused on what was important. "But daddy I'm so happy. Brittany makes me so happy. And I don't want to hate something that makes me feel so happy and loved."

Brittany smashed her lips together to keep the noise that was bubbling up from her throat inside. She was so proud and excited to hear Santana say that, but she was also shocked to hear just how much Santana had struggled. She knew Santana had had a hard time dealing with everything, but Santana had never actually talked about it before. She never knew her relationship with her mother was so strained. And hearing the words made Brittany feel so sad and almost like she was intruding on a private moment between Santana and her father.

"Brittany makes me feel so loved. Like I'm special and actually worth someone's attention. And…and mom didn't approve." Santana's voice lowered as her words disappeared. She had no desire to recount the events with her mother.

As Brittany scooted closer, her knees bumped against Santana's thigh. She wanted to tell Santana that it was entirely the other way around. That Santana was the one that made her feel special. She wanted to tell Santana that she was doing so good. She wanted to say something in response, but she didn't feel like it was her turn to talk.

The room grew silent, and the pressure on Brittany's hand grew ten fold as Santana waited for her father to respond. She expected him to yell. To look at her with disgust. To simply just get up and walk out.

The silence grew uncomfortable, and Santana pushed into Brittany in response. She studied her father's face, watching as he absorbed all the information he had just been told. She couldn't read the look in his eyes, and the longer he remained silent, the more she thought she had disappointed him too.

He slowly rose from the chair, eyes firm and unblinking as he stared at Santana, and she shuddered. Was he going to slap her too? She clenched around Brittany's hand as he walked toward them, towering above her, and she closed her eyes as she braced herself for the blow.

What she didn't expect was the rush of air over her body as her father fell to his knees in front of her. And she definitely didn't expect the wave of warmth of his arms as he pulled her into him. Her cheek fell against his shoulder as her free hand wound around his back.

"I love you." He breathed into her hair, and she couldn't hold back the relief she felt as tears pricked at her eyes and stained his shirt. She felt like someone had punched her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her as she gasped in air between muffled sobs. Her hand fidgeted against his back until her fingers clung to his shirt. The feeling of being scared and nervous, mixed with sudden relief and happiness was too much. And all she could do was cry.

But it was so different from how she had cried a few days ago.

It felt better. And it left her feeling a lot lighter.

Brittany watched the exchange and slightly felt like she should let them be; give them time to talk and be a family. But the way Santana was squeezing her hand told her she needed to be here. Brittany's heart felt too big for her chest as Mr. Lopez wrapped Santana in his arms. Her face was so relaxed that Brittany couldn't believe how long Santana had been worrying about and fearing this. She looked so happy and so relieved that Brittany couldn't help the smile that pulled across her face.

Santana sniffled and pulled back from her father, wiping at her moistened cheeks. Brittany muffled a giggle at the shy and dopey smile curled across Santana's lips. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were scrunched, almost as if she were embarrassed. Brittany squeezed her hand, reassuring her that she shouldn't be embarrassed because this is exactly what she wanted. Exactly what they wanted.

Mr. Lopez brought his thumb to swipe away a lingering tear across Santana's chin. He smiled at her, his eyes reminding her of the time she fell while learning to ride a bike, because she didn't know how to turn around at the end of the cul-de-sac, and she had scraped her knee. She had never seen her father run so fast as he hurried down the street to make sure she was okay. The way he had carried her home and cleaned up the bruise, sealing it with a kiss to her cheek and her knee, made Santana feel protected.

And she felt the same way now. Her father was looking at her like he was going to protect her from everything bad in the world.

Like he was going to pick her up when she fell and kiss her bruises and make everything better.

Mr. Lopez placed his hands on the top of Santana's thighs, the tips of his fingers brushing against their clasped hands. He looked down at them and smiled, chuckling at how hard his daughter was gripping to Brittany.

"Mija, it's okay." He almost cooed, moving his hand until it was cradling both of theirs.

He watched as fear and uncertainty flickered over his daughter's eyes before fading into pure trust and thankfulness.

Brittany couldn't contain her excitement anymore and half-squealed, half-shrieked as she pulled both of them into an awkward hug. Both Santana and Mr. Lopez chuckled into it, and Brittany was sure she had never felt happier.

When they pulled away, Mr. Lopez squeezed their clasped hands once more before standing up and sitting on the coffee table in front of them. "I have to honest sweetheart. This isn't exactly news to me." He smiled, watching as Santana's face flashed with questions. "You two really aren't that subtle."

Santana laughed nervously as Brittany's cheeks and the tips of her ears turned bright red. "Wwwhat do you mean?" Santana stammered, eyes flicking between Brittany's and her father's like a baby bird.

He sighed and smiled, his eyes round and bright as he looked at the two of them. "Santana you've been in love with this girl since the day you came home from second grade with a drawing of a duck. We could not get you to stop talking about this girl with, and if I remember correctly, eyes as blue as the ocean and hair as golden as the sun."

Santana blushed as Brittany giggled next to her, her head falling to Santana's shoulder as she bathed in the new information. Brittany tried to picture a little feisty Santana coming home from second grade with her drawing, talking a mile a minute about her. Did she try and get the drawing put up on the fridge like her mother always did with her stuff from school? Does Santana still have it tucked away somewhere? Brittany's cheeks hurt from smiling so hard at all the possibilities.

"Mija," her father began, his voice a little more somber and serious than it was a few seconds ago. "I know I haven't always been around." His face softened with regret, sadness woven through the lines of his wrinkles. "And I know it may have seemed at times that I put work before my family, but I have never not loved you. And I have never stopped thinking about you. Do you know how many times my colleagues have asked about the beautiful girl that's framed all over my office?"

Santana smiled bashfully at her father's words, her head leaning against Brittany's. She felt like she was dreaming. All of this was too good to be true.

"You will always be my little girl." He reassured, reaching forward to squeeze Santana's knee. "No matter who you may or may not be in love with."

Brittany pulled back from Santana's shoulder and watched as a watery smile curled over Santana's face, causing her heart to flutter in her chest. She was so happy. And she could tell Santana was happy.

Without thinking about it she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Santana's cheek, smiling into the warm skin. Maybe everything wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. Because Santana's dad was there and telling them he loved Santana no matter what.

And Brittany knew it was exactly what Santana needed to hear.

Mr. Lopez watched the exchange and smiled. He watched as Santana's cheeks colored from the display of affection in his presence. And he watched as Brittany looked at his daughter with such care and protection. He turned on the table to face Brittany, his eyes trained on the way her whole body was turned into his daughter.

"And I want to thank you Brittany."

Brittany shook her gaze from Santana to face Mr. Lopez in shock. Why was she being thanked? She didn't do anything.

"You've protected my daughter and taken care of her when her family has not." Santana let out a puff of air, softly squeaking as fresh tears sprung to her eyes. "You show her a type of love and compassion like I've never seen. And I'm sure my daughter has not always made it easy for you to love her." He chuckled, causing both Brittany and Santana to smile as well. His eyes shifted to his daughter, winking with a smile at her glossed over eyes and her happy smirk. "I want to thank you because she is my baby. And you have helped in making her a woman I am very proud of."

Santana squeezed Brittany's hand as her lips curled and her eyes scrunched. She turned to look at Brittany, her whole face painted in happiness as she took in Brittany's smile and the way her eyes were shiny and blue. She could tell Brittany was trying not to cry at her father's sweet words. She knew Brittany wasn't expecting him to say that any more than she was, but Santana couldn't deny their truth.

She watched as the muscles in Brittany's cheeks twitched and she felt Brittany tug on their interlocked hands, and she knew she was about to give her father a hug. And all Santana could do was smile wider, and slightly giggle as Brittany leapt from the couch and practically knocked her father off the coffee table.

Once Brittany settled back on the couch, her father turned a little more serious as he looked at Santana. "I'll talk to your mother. She's not a bad lady sweetheart. She was just raised a little differently than I was. Her strong will is one of the things I love about her." Her father chuckled, and Santana couldn't help the slight shiver that ran down her spine. She knew her mother wasn't a terrible person, but that didn't erase the things she had done over the years. But seeing her through her father's eyes was different, because he got to see things that she didn't. "She'll come around. But until she does, is it okay with the Pierce's for you to continue to stay here?" He asked as he turned to Brittany to make sure it was okay.

Brittany nodded her head frantically. "Of course." She smiled, reaching over to tickle across Santana's knee. "She's always welcome here. My parents say it's like having another daughter." Brittany added with a bright smile and a bubbly giggle.

"Your poor father. How does he manage with so many girls in the house?" Mr. Lopez joked, and Santana relaxed again, glad the conversation had faded from her mother.

"Lord Tubbington and him play poker on Thursday nights." Brittany deadpanned, and Santana stifled a chuckle at the way her father looked at her as if to ask if she was serious or not. Santana nodded and smiled, and fell in love with Brittany all over again. She never thought seeing her father and Brittany interacting would be so rewarding, but she's never been happier.

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><p>Santana turned the shower off, grabbing the towel splayed over the rack to dry her hair. She wrapped it under her arms and around her body, stepping from the tub. Her father left to go to work, promising to talk to her mother when he got off. She told Brittany she wanted to go out tonight to celebrate, and even though Santana thought it was a really cheesy thing to do, Brittany was more than excited.<p>

She walked into Brittany's room and found it empty. A little confused, she poked her head into the hallway to see if she could hear Brittany downstairs. But the house seemed empty. She couldn't hear anyone moving downstairs, and there weren't any other lights on.

"Brittany?" She called hesitantly, refusing to walk around the house in just a towel incase Brittany's parents came home early from work. When she received no response, she turned back to Brittany's room to find her phone.

However, laying over it was a folded piece of paper and a flattened rose. Santana picked up the dried flower and twirled it between her fingers with curiosity, noticing how the edges of the once bright red rose were now as dark as her hair. She placed it down next to her phone and picked up the paper, laughing at herself for how happy she was over a damn piece of notebook paper.

_Santana,_

_What a whirlwind that past few days have been. Although I'm really happy right now. I'm so happy for you. Because now you know how much your dad loves you and accepts you for who you are. And I know you're still sad about your mom, I am too, but maybe your dad is right. And maybe she'll come around eventually. Maybe she's like you and just needs someone to love her and be patient with her even when she's not so nice to be around sometimes. You're both like porcupines. You have these sharp spikes on the outside to protect yourselves, but when you're flipped over, there's just soft fur. _

_It made me really happy to hear that a little you brought home the picture of the duck I drew and bragged about me to your parents. It makes me smile so big because I can just picture you with your crazy hair and fiery attitude, and it makes me love you even more. It reminds me of all the times you've stood up for me, I don't know why but it does. And it reminds me of that time in sixth grade when our parents let us go to Cedar Point with your cousin and his girlfriend. At first they didn't think we were old enough to go without them, but you assured them that Paul and Mona would look after us just fine. _

_I think our parents would be upset to find out that they ditched us as soon as we got there, and told us to be careful and meet by the Carousel by the front of the park at 5. But we were so excited because we felt like adults. And I remember how scared you were to go on the roller coasters. You wouldn't admit it, but I could see it in your eyes as you watched them. But I took your hand and led you through the lines and I didn't let go. Even once we were strapped in our seats I held your hand. Because I knew you needed it. Even if you'd never ask me to do it. _

_Do you remember when we were sharing that Icee because we liked when we mixed the blue and the red together? I said it was like Lady and the Tramp because we each had our own straw but were drinking at the same time. I remember you blushing and I thought it was so cute. Do you remember those two boys that came up to us and started making fun of us, especially me because I had my shirt tucked in to my shorts, and apparently that wasn't cool back then. (Even though everyone seems to do it now. Maybe I can predict the future.) But you know how I hate when my shirt flies up during the rides so that's why I did it. _

_They said some really mean things, and then when they asked why someone as pretty as you was friends with someone like me I could see the anger written all over your face. You stood up and started cursing them out in Spanish (I knew that because you had taught me a few of the words the summer before when we were laying out by your pool). But when they continued making fun of me, and called us dykes, you grabbed our Icee and threw it on them. It's kind of funny now because that's what mean people do at school. They were so angry, but you stood tall and practically dared them to come at you again. They definitely knew better and ran off. _

_When I asked you what that word meant, the name they called us, you said it was something bad. I knew it had to be by the way you reacted, but I had no idea back then. And I think I figured it out now. It's a bad word because of how it's used. Not necessarily what it means. Although you probably didn't like what it meant either back then, but that doesn't matter. What's important is the fact that you have always stood up for me. And I don't always need you to Santana, I can take care of myself. But I do find it really sweet and really hot. _

_When we were walking back to the front of the park to meet your cousin, we passed a bunch of flowers. I told you how pretty they were because there were so many and so many different colors. We stopped and looked at them for a little, and you asked which one was my favorite. I remember studying them, trying to find the one that was the prettiest. And then I saw it. This little red rose that wasn't as tall as the others and wasn't as big. It looked so sad, like all its friends were leaving it out. So I pointed to it because I thought it was special. That even though it didn't look like the rest of the red roses, it was still special because it was a rose. _

_You looked at me funny when I did, and I just smiled. And then you walked over to it, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and picked it. I remember yelling at you because now the rose would die and never be able to be as big and tall as the other roses. But you handed it to me, and do you remember what you said? You told me you knew you were going to pick that one because it reminded you of me. You said that it was different but probably didn't know it was different, and that's what made it special. _

_I came home that day and asked my mom how to make a rose last forever after it was picked. And she told me to put it between the pages of a book. So that's what I did. And here it is. Santana whenever I doubted that you loved me when you were having trouble accepting everything, I'd look at this rose and remind myself that you do. That you see things in me that no one else sees. That to you I'm special. To you I'm a rose that may not ever be like the other roses, but even more beautiful because of it. _

_I wanted to show you this because it's something I've never told you. And no you can't keep it. It's mine. _

_But I also wanted to tell you that you're kind of like this rose too. You've always been pretty like the other roses, but you never quite blossomed like they did. You're obviously smaller (which I find so cute because I love picking you up). And you have a lot of thorns, more so than the other roses I think, but you're still a rose. And maybe us special roses can produce the most beautiful roses to ever exist. Wouldn't that be cool?_

_Anyways, you're in the shower right now cause we're going on a date And my mom just called and asked me to pick up some things at the grocery store down the street so I'll be right back. _

_You've come a long way since the first letter I wrote, and I really can't tell you how happy I am. _

_Because you're my rose. Which sounds a little sad because it reminds me of Titanic and I don't want either of us to be Jack and drown because that's not happy._

_But just because we are happy now doesn't mean I should stop writing you letters. Little reminders of how far we have come and how much we love each other. _

_Because I like telling you how I feel and how much you mean to me. But I know you still don't really like talking about your feelings. You are still a porcupine after all, even if some of your spikes fell off along the way. So I think letters are a good way to talk about things without you freaking out. _

_Plus I like writing letters. It makes me feel like those guys who wrote with feathers in that movie we watched in History last year. _

_Wait. Are you a porcupine or a rose? I think I confused myself. Maybe you're the result of a porcupine and rose mating. Like your mom is a porcupine and your dad is a rose, and so you're a porcurose. _

_I guess that just means you're a rose with spikes. Which is the same thing as thorns. _

_So basically you're my thorny rose._

_Love you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce._

Santana smiled as she folded the letter back up and placed it down on Brittany's desk. She picked up the rose again, unable to stop her heart from racing and her stomach from fluttering. Santana remembered that day at Cedar Point, but she had no idea how much a simple flower had meant to Brittany.

It was impossible to think that Santana knew everything about Brittany. Because every day she was surprised with something new.

And Santana wondered how in the world she had managed to hold on to Brittany for so long.

She really wanted to show Brittany just how much she was appreciated, and how much she really meant to her.

She opened Brittany's laptop and started typing, setting up her plans for Brittany and making sure it would all work out. She was going to take Brittany on the best date Brittany's ever been on. And afterwards, she's going to give Brittany the best sex she's ever had.

As she pulled on a pair of white jean shorts and a bright blue tank top, she heard the front door open and the crackle of plastic bags. She busied herself in front of the bathroom mirror as she put on her makeup, listening to Brittany bound up the stairs.

"Hey," she purred, stealing a kiss to Santana's cheek as she came to settle on top of the closed toilet. She watched Santana add a strip of eyeliner to her left eye before capping it and leaning down to kiss her.

"Hi." She smiled, kissing Brittany again before standing back up to look over her reflection. All that was left was her hair and her outfit, and her heart beat anxiously as she thought over their plans for the evening. She really hoped Brittany would enjoy it.

"So what are the plans?" Brittany asked, standing up to peel off her t-shirt.

"Secret." Santana smirked as Brittany unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the tiled floor. Santana turned back around to grab some mousse, knowing if she stared too long they would not be leaving on time.

"How will I know what to wear?" Brittany pouted with a smile, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and lowering them to the floor, her underwear following shortly after.

"Dress up." Santana winked as she massaged the mousse into her hair, loose and natural curls falling into place.

Brittany rolled her eyes as she turned on the shower. She added a playful tap to Santana's butt before hopping into the tub. Santana couldn't stop grinning as she finished her hair, happily listening to Brittany half-hum, half-sing "Use Your Love Tonight" as she lathered shampoo into her hair.

"I'm gonna change. Can you be ready to go in like 40 minutes?" Santana called as she put the last bobby pin in her hair. Brittany hummed in approval as she rinsed her hair, turning to grab the bottle of conditioner.

Santana grabbed the black strapless dress she knew Brittany had and pulled it over her head. It was a little longer on her, stopping below her knees, and the cups for her breasts were a little tight, but it fit her well enough, and she knew Brittany loved it when she wore her clothes. She slipped into a pair of red heels as Brittany exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped only around her hair.

Santana stared without shame as she sat on the edge of Brittany's bed. The added layer of water made Brittany's skin glisten, and Santana gulped at the sight. She watched intently as a tiny bead of water trickled between the valley of Brittany's breasts, and she licked her lips in response.

"You need to get dressed." Santana pleaded, causing Brittany to giggle as she sauntered to her closet to look through her dresses. Santana had no problem watching as she stood, her butt on full display.

Brittany pulled out a red dress, holding it up for Santana to approve. With a slight nod, Brittany pulled it over her head, adjusting it until it fell over her thighs. She pulled her hair out of the towel, and threw it into a loose bun that framed her face perfectly.

Santana knew by the look on Brittany's face that tonight was going to be perfect. And with everything they had been through, not only in the past few days, Santana knew they deserved a night drama free. And Santana was going to try her hardest to give Brittany one.


	13. Chapter 13

****A/N: Thank you. I thought I'd reward you guys with an angst-free chapter because these girls deserved it. Thank you to my beta Frogsrcool!

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen - She's My Dancing Queen<strong>

"Breadstix?" Brittany questioned, looking at Santana with a goofy smile and raised eyebrows. "How original." She giggled, the cheesy Italian music providing the sound track to their arrival.

Santana rolled her eyes and smiled as she walked them toward the hostess stand. "It's not like there's many options in Bumfuck Ohio." Their heels clanked against the hardwood floors as they walked. Santana glanced around the restaurant, noticing that most of the tables were occupied. She didn't recognize anyone, but the crowdedness still made her feel a little uneasy.

Brittany sensed the slight change in Santana's demeanor as Santana's shoulders dropped just a fraction of an inch. She rested her hand against the small of Santana's back, ever so lightly as to not to spook her further. Before Brittany could even offer a verbal distraction, the hostess gathered two menus and asked them to follow her.

Santana knew this trip to Breadstix was different. Usually under the disguise of their Cheerio uniforms, they could chalk up their dinner to an after practice meal. But all dressed up was a different story. They were either coming back from a dance, which wasn't possible due to their current summer vacation, or they were on a date. And Santana could feel pairs of eyes on their backs as they walked. She bristled a little, wondering if Brittany could feel their stares as well. Did she know that this was different from all the other times they ate here too? Or was Brittany just picturing the menu in her head as she thought about what she wanted to order?

They were ushered to a booth near the far wall. Brittany scooted into one side, and Santana paused, wondering which side she was supposed to sit in. They always sat on opposite sides, but was she supposed to sit next to Brittany now? She didn't know, and she mentally cursed herself for being so bad at the whole dating thing.

But Brittany always knew when she was struggling. She looked up at Santana with a smile in her eyes and ever so slightly nodded her head towards the other side of the booth. Santana breathed a little easier, her cheeks coloring light pink as she smiled and sat down across from Brittany. The hostess handed them their menus, oblivious to the silent exchange that had just occurred, and walked away.

"Relax." Brittany cooed with a big smile, reaching under the table to squeeze at Santana's knee.

Santana chuckled, her hands fidgeting on the table in front of her. She ducked her head, her chin pulling into her chest as she tried to avert Brittany's gaze. "Is it that obvious how bad I am at this?" Santana breathed with a nervous smile lacing her voice.

"No." Brittany shook her head, her eyes fluttering with a slight giggle. "I just know you."

And with that Santana relaxed significantly. Brittany knew her. Santana repeated that over and over like a mantra in her head, until she could pick up her menu without it shaking between her fingers. "What are you gonna get?" Santana asked as she looked over the first page. She wasn't really reading the items. She knew the menu as well as the Spanish lullaby her abuelo used to sing to her before he passed away.

"Spaghetti and meatballs." Brittany answered without taking her eyes off of Santana.

"That's what you always get." Santana smiled as she looked up at her.

"It's really good." Brittany shrugged her shoulders, smiling when a woman sauntered up to their table.

"Hi. My name is Alice and I'll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?" Alice's green eyes peered down at their table, flicking between Brittany and Santana.

"Water please." Brittany smiled before looking over at Santana.

Her eyes were bluer than Santana remembered, and she momentarily forgot the lingering green eyes waiting for her response. She cleared her throat, flustered as her cheeks flushed. "Water for me too." She ducked her head, embarrassed by how ridiculous she was acting. Her and Brittany had been out to dinner multiple times, and she was acting as if they had never been alone together before. Every simple thing felt complicated, like she had to think before she spoke or moved. Was she supposed to wait to go to the bathroom after they were done so she didn't leave Brittany alone at the table? Was she supposed to play footsies with Brittany underneath the table while acting coy about it? Was she supposed to argue about the check before she ended up paying?

Santana knew she was making things more complicated than they needed to be. Brittany didn't care if Santana did everything a normal date included. Brittany didn't care if Santana's hand was shaking on her knee because she wasn't sure if she should keep her hands in her lap or on the table for Brittany to hold. Santana knew Brittany only cared about Santana being here. They didn't have to hold hands or share a milkshake like a cheesy normal date, because whatever Santana did, Brittany would like.

Alice returned with their glasses of water, and asked if they were ready to order. Santana looked up from her opened menu as Alice hovered a pen over a blank pad. "Can I have the chicken scampi, no mushrooms please?" Santana flashed a cheeky smile, and Brittany stifled a giggle at the indentation of a dimple as Santana tried to be as polite as she could. Alice scribbled down the order and turned to Brittany, who didn't take her eyes off Santana as she ordered her spaghetti and meatballs.

Alice wrote down Brittany's order before gathering their menus and walking away. Brittany bounced her straw against the tabletop as the paper broke at one end. She slipped it out and plopped it in her water. She smiled wide around the straw, giggling as she sipped her water when Santana smiled that reserved smile she saved only for Brittany. To earn herself Santana's full attention, she puffed out her cheeks and began to blow bubbles into her water.

Santana chuckled at the action, her nerves disappearing a little as Brittany seemed to remind her without even speaking that it was still just the two of them, no matter what label they were putting on the evening. "You're such a dork." Santana rolled her eyes to mask the growing heat to her cheeks as Brittany blatantly flirted with her across the table.

Brittany's eyelashes fluttered against her cheekbones as the corners of her lips curled toward her ears. "But you love this dork." Brittany dipped her head to the side, the light hanging over their table catching the freckles that dotted across her nose and dusted over her cheeks.

"But that's your fault. You made me love you." Santana retorted, a playful tone to her voice and a teasing smirk gracing her lips.

"How so?" Brittany played along. It had been entirely too long since they last flirted so openly. Brittany wanted to keep that easy smile on Santana's face for as long as possible. Plus, watching Santana get flustered with a response as her desire grew was the best type of entertainment.

Santana swallowed thickly, her skin warming under Brittany's flirting gaze. "You can't choose who you fall in love with Britt. You told me that, remember?" Santana's voice was lower, and her face was a little shyer as she looked back at Brittany. Brittany nodded her head, encouraging Santana to continue.

Santana knew Brittany was baiting her, teasing her like they normally would in private. But the added audience made Santana's skin buzz with something new. And she took the bait as her bashful voice dripped like sweet honey. "So it's your fault for being so damn loveable."

Brittany giggled around the end of her straw. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it when she couldn't come up with a comeback. She looked like a fish making bubbles as she tried to hide the fact that Santana's answer had surprised her to the point of happy silence.

Santana knew she won that round as Alice brought them a basket of breadsticks and a bowl of an assortment of packaged butter and jelly.

* * *

><p>"How is it?" Santana asked with a slight giggle as Brittany slurped up an exceptionally long spaghetti noodle. Tiny drops of sauce splattered along the edges of Brittany's mouth, highlighting its movements as she chewed.<p>

"Good. A little spicy," Brittany informed as she swallowed with a smile.

"Is that okay?" Santana worried, slightly afraid that Brittany's meal wasn't as good as usual.

Brittany beamed at the worry lines that formed between her brows. It was impossible not to find it absolutely adorable. "Of course. It means they finally took my suggestions seriously." Brittany noted with a nod of her head.

Santana didn't bother asking for clarification. It should have surprised her that Brittany would actually fill out comment cards, but it really didn't.

Santana watched Brittany twirl her fork in her pasta, the noodles wrapping around the metal until she was satisfied with the amount. Brown eyes watched as Brittany brought the full fork to her mouth, her cheeks puffing with the added pasta as she chewed. When Brittany realized she had an audience, her cheeks colored and a bashful smile spread across her face.

Santana chuckled, breaking off a piece of her chicken with her own fork. She felt so happy, to the point that her stomach was making it hard to eat. She almost hated that once she opened herself up to experiencing being in love, she couldn't keep any of her feelings at bay. They all bubbled in her gut and gurgled up her throat until she was constantly smiling or looking at Brittany like she was the best damn thing to ever exist.

Sometimes it made her feel exposed. Like she was standing on a stage with no clothes on, and all her insecurities written across her skin in permanent marker.

But every time she caught a glimpse of shimmering blue, she could see in Brittany's eyes that she would never take advantage of her vulnerability.

"Want to try some?" Brittany asked, holding out a fork full of spaghetti.

Santana smiled. Brittany always offered some of her dish, pretending it was the first time she had asked as if Santana had never tasted it before. But every time Santana went along with it, secretly loving the way Brittany made it seem like what was hers was also Santana's.

Santana nodded her head, and instead of Brittany handing over the fork for Santana to take, she leaned forward, extending her arm to signal that she wanted to do it. Santana's eyes darted to the other patrons, her cheeks burning. But she couldn't stop the way her heart jumped at the idea, even if her outward appearance made it seem like she didn't want Brittany to feed her.

Santana realized no one was paying them any attention, and she felt a little stupid thinking that a spotlight was shining on them. Every one was busy with their own meals and their own conversations to notice Santana's slight discomfort or Brittany's loving patience.

Her eyes flickered back to Brittany's, a hesitant smile washing over her face as she leaned forward and took the mouthful of Brittany's spaghetti. Brittany's fork retreated back to her plate, scooping up more for herself as they fell into a comfortable silence. Brittany never made a big deal out of the same things Santana did. She always made it seem like it was normal, that feeding each other in the middle of a restaurant was the most ordinary thing they could be doing.

Santana kind of, really loved that about Brittany.

Brittany asked if they could split a dessert once her plate was cleared, claiming she really wanted to try the apple pie, but didn't want a whole slice for herself. Santana agreed, asking Alice for extra whipped cream because she knew how much Brittany loved it.

Each spoonful of pie was more delicious than the last. Apple pie was Santana's favorite, and she was pretty sure Brittany knew that before she ordered a slice. It always reminded her of the summer she spent with her abuela, when her parents took an extended cruise around the coasts of South America. They would buy a bunch of apples from a nearby orchard, and would spent countless afternoons cutting them and preparing the pie crust. The warm smell would envelope her abuela's house until it made Santana's mouth water in anticipation.

Brittany pushed a piece of pie across the plate until it was covered in whipped cream, scooping it onto her spoon and into her mouth. Santana giggled at the residue of it that somehow managed to cover the tip of her nose. Her laughter grew when Brittany crossed her eyes to try and see it, before her tongue reached out and swiped it off her nose.

Santana's stomach flipped and dropped at the sight, and she hated that her skin felt unnecessarily hot all of a sudden.

"What's next on our date?" Brittany grinned as she licked the last of the pie off her spoon.

Santana took a sip of water, setting her spoon on the now empty plate of dessert. "That would be a surprise Miss Pierce." Santana flirted, wiping her mouth with her napkin as she settled into the booth.

"Well what if I don't like this surprise?" Brittany asked with a playful smile, her foot running up Santana's calf under the table.

Santana tried to hide the shudder that started at the base of her neck and ran down her spine at the touch. "I think you'll just have to trust me." Santana bit back with a smile, eyes falling briefly to appreciate the way Brittany's dress dropped low and framed her chest.

Brittany hummed in mock speculation, like she had to think over the words because she wasn't sure she could trust Santana.

Even though they both knew Brittany would trust Santana with anything and everything.

Alice brought them their check shortly after, handing each of them a complimentary mint and a sweet "have a good evening" before she walked away. Santana picked up the check and took her card out of her purse, standing to walk to the front to pay. Brittany's hand grazed her wrist as they walked, and Santana almost reached out to lace their fingers together, but Brittany pulled it back before Santana had the chance.

She honestly couldn't decide whether she was upset or relieved at the action.

* * *

><p>Brittany walked towards Santana's car as they exited the restaurant, but Santana quickly tugged her in the opposite direction. "We're walking." She smiled, letting go of Brittany's arm as they fell into a comfortable pace through downtown Lima. Santana pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from smiling at Brittany's curiosity written across her face.<p>

"What if my feet hurt and I don't want to walk." Brittany complained with too much laughter in her voice to make the statement true.

But Santana was happy to play along. "If your feet hurt now then I'm afraid you might have to get them amputated by the end of the night because the rest of our date involves you standing."

Brittany perked up at that admission, her face contorting in concentration as she tried to piece together what they might be doing. Maybe they were visiting an art gallery like her parents liked to do sometimes. That involved a lot of standing, and Brittany liked the idea of trying to pretend to be some rich woman interested in a new addition to her home collection.

Or maybe they were going to a bar with their fake IDs and they would have to stand the whole time because it was going to be full. And Santana always claimed that when beautiful women sat at bars, forty-year-old men thought of it as an invitation to introduce themselves. Plus bars had karaoke, and that was always a lot of fun.

Or an arcade. Brittany really wanted to win Lord Tubbington a new watch because a few days ago he bartered it with the neighbor's cat for a pack of cigarettes that she had found behind his litter box.

As Brittany pondered the ideas in her head, Santana took the opportunity to fully look over Brittany's outfit. She loved the way thin red straps ran over Brittany's collarbones, puckering the material slightly before wrapping over her shoulders and down her back. It dipped low between her breasts, but clung perfectly so that it left everything to the imagination. Even though Santana hadn't needed to imagine what Brittany's breasts looked like since sixth grade. The light material flowed loosely after it tapered at her waist, flapping against her legs as they walked. And the heels Brittany had chosen did wonders to accentuate every muscle in her legs, carving them out like a sculptor would to clay.

Santana never understood how Brittany's legs were so damn perfect and strong, but she never questioned it because she was the lucky one who got to experience them in ways most people would never be able to.

"You're staring." Brittany's voice startled her as her attention snapped back up to meet ocean blue. Heat washed over her cheeks as she faltered slightly in her steps. "It's okay. I know I look good." Brittany purred, adding a wink before Santana dropped her eyes in embarrassment for being caught. Brittany's knuckle tickled across Santana's ribs, grazing over the material until she brought her eyes up to Brittany's. "You look very pretty tonight too." Brittany's voice softened as her eyes stayed firm with complete honesty and admiration.

Santana's flush deepened, ducking her head before facing forward to make sure they didn't miss their turn. Brittany retracted her hand from Santana's side, crossing her arms over her chest as they walked, a smile painted across her face.

"Down here." Santana pointed, ushering them down a pretty dark alley. The walls of the brick buildings towered over them, their heels tapping against the cement and echoing around them.

Brittany stepped closer to Santana, her arm brushing against Santana's as they walked further into darkness. "Are you sure you know where we're going?" Brittany asked timidly, her eyes skating over every inch of the alley she could see.

Santana turned to her with an amused smile. "Don't tell me you're scared B." Santana teased, pinching Brittany's hip playfully.

"Noooo." Brittany exaggerated with a slight whine, clearly indicating she was a little scared.

Santana's heart fluttered at how cute Brittany looked as she tried to act both scared and brave at the same time. She wanted to tease her more, but she settled for bumping her hip against Brittany's as they approached the second part of their date. "Don't worry. We're here." Santana stopped and turned to a black door.

Brittany swung until she was standing next to Santana, staring at the door set against the brick walls. She hadn't realized there were any doors along the alley, let alone one that would lead them to Santana's surprise. She figured Santana was only using the alley as a short cut. She looked above the door for a sign, but there was nothing. "San…" Brittany hesitated, eyes flicking between the door and Santana.

"Trust me." Santana smiled, and then reached down to grab Brittany's hand in hers. She squeezed before knocking twice on the door with her free hand, her eyes never leaving Brittany's.

Brittany watched her until the door handle clicked and it swung open. A dark skinned man dressed in a shiny red button down shirt and black slacks stood in the doorway, glancing between the two of them. "Can I help you ladies?" He asked, his white teeth shining against the darkness as he smiled.

"Hi. My name is Santana. I called earlier." Santana answered him, her hand still cradling Brittany's as she spoke.

"Ah yes. Come in." He opened the door further so they could enter. Inside was just about as dark as the alley, and Brittany had to squint so she could walk without bumping into anything. Santana tugged her through until they were standing in front of a glass counter, a Hispanic woman sitting behind it.

"IDs." She almost barked as she snapped her gum between her lips. Santana set hers down on the counter first and the woman picked it up to examine it. She picked Brittany's up after she handed Santana's back to her. She procured two neon green wristbands that had 'underage' written across them in black letters. "Through those doors and down the hall." The woman pointed with a small, sarcastic smirk.

Santana nodded and spun on her heels, leading Brittany through the double doors the woman had pointed to. Once they were alone in the dark hallway, lit only by a few black lights, Brittany leaned closer to Santana. "Where are we?"

"You'll see." Santana grinned, squeezing Brittany's hand.

"You're kinda freaking me out. Have you gone crazy San? Cause I feel like you brought me to some underground torture chamber." Brittany rambled, her voice every bit serious as her eyes scanned the walls for clues as to where they really were.

"The only torture to you I'll ever allow involves the bedroom and a whole lot of teasing." Santana fired back easily, her voice playful as a thudding base began to reverberate around them. Brittany grew increasingly interested as she heard the music, her skin already humming from Santana's words.

As they neared the end of the hall, bright multi-colored lights began to dance over the walls, the music growing louder and clearer. Brittany turned to look at Santana as they came to a stop. They were standing over a large dance floor, a spiral staircase separating them from the crowd of people. Brittany heard the unfamiliar music as she watched the people below them dance in a way that seemed so natural and fluid. Their bodies rolled together as the colored lights flashed over them. It was so beautiful, and Brittany's eyes widened in pure delight. "Santana?"

"I've always wanted to go salsa dancing." Santana admitted, her thumb brushing over Brittany's knuckle. "And I was hoping you could teach me." She smiled, turning back to look at the sea of people moving in perfect rhythm.

"I…I don't know how." Brittany stammered. She watched Santana's face fall a little in disappointment and quickly squeezed her hand. "But we can learn together." Santana nodded her head, her eyes reflecting the red light currently splaying throughout the tiny club. The color danced over her bare shoulders, like her skin was a canvas for the most beautiful watercolor painting.

They began to descend down the spiral staircase, hands still firmly clasped together as Santana led them down to the dance floor.

"How did you find this place?" Brittany whispered into her ear as they squeezed between people standing around the main area. A tiny bar sat against the far wall, adjacent to the table where the dj was set up.

Santana tugged Brittany towards the group of people dancing, her body buzzing as the music swam through her. Once she found some room, she spun around to face Brittany, her hand falling to Brittany's hip. "It's called Google baby." She smirked as Brittany's hand wound around her neck.

"Ha ha." Brittany mocked, as their feet started moving to the beat. They fell into an easy rhythm, glancing around at the others to make sure their steps weren't too far off.

Santana blushed at the way Brittany quickly picked up on the dance, matching the other couples around them with ease. Even though Brittany claimed she didn't know how to salsa dance, her natural rhythm and perfect body fell into it like she had been doing it for years. Santana could tell that she was being hesitant though. One of her hands stayed cradled in Santana's and the other on her shoulder as they moved, their bodies significantly further apart than the others.

Santana stepped closer, leaning in to whisper in Brittany's ear. "Dance with me." Santana purred, and quickly kissed the warm skin below Brittany's earlobe.

Brittany shuddered, pulling back a little to look into Santana's dark eyes. "Are you sure? What about…" She trailed off, looking around them at the other people.

Santana pulled Brittany closer, her thigh sliding between Brittany's. "I don't care."

Brittany looked at Santana, studying her face for any signs of dishonesty as the song faded to a new one. When she found none, her cheeks colored as her lips curled, the now blue light reflecting off her pearly teeth. Her arm wound around Santana's hip, her hand pressing against the small of Santana's back. "Hold on." Brittany smiled as she squeezed Santana's hand and spun them.

Santana clung to Brittany's shoulder as she was led in a small circle. Brittany spun them, dipping Santana as her charcoal curls cascaded towards the floor. She smiled up at Brittany, loving the way her heart was beating in her ears with the rhythm of the music. Brittany picked her back up and swung her until her back was pressed against Brittany's chest.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Brittany's words shocked her as she breathed them into Santana's shoulder. Their hips naturally fit together, like the last two pieces of a puzzle. Brittany's hands splayed over her stomach as she moved them, their hips circling and grinding against each other.

Santana felt heat rise to her cheeks as they danced. Her body was buzzing with each movement, Brittany's skin sliding against hers in the most delicious way. Once they fell together, it became second nature to move against one another, and Santana fell into a daze. She completely forgot about the other people in the small club as she released her hold on Brittany's hips and reached up and over her head. She tangled her fingers in Brittany's hair, pushing herself further against Brittany, completely molding her back to Brittany's front.

Brittany whimpered when she noticed the gloss of slight sweat coating Santana's skin and how it made her glow under the lights. Brittany wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss her shoulder, to taste the saltiness of her skin as they danced. Her hands gripped Santana's hips tighter as she rolled her own against Santana's butt.

A coy smile spread across Santana's face as she felt Brittany's hot breath against the side of her neck. She knew their dancing wasn't just affecting her, and she couldn't help the small laughter that left her parted lips as Brittany's knee slipped between her thighs. Santana felt drunk as her body read Brittany's like a manual, telling her exactly what she needed to do in order to put Brittany together perfectly. Sensing the need in Brittany's touch as she scratched at Santana's hipbone with a well-timed thrust of her hips, Santana decided to increase her teasing.

Sliding her hands down Brittany's head until she was gripping the base of Brittany's neck, Santana began to move her body lower. She shimmied down Brittany's front, making sure her hips and butt rolled against Brittany as she moved. Her hips swiveled in small circles until she was crouched in front of Brittany. She swore she could have heard Brittany release a noise usually only heard in the bedroom, but the loud music made it difficult for Santana to know for sure. As she shimmied her body back up Brittany's, pale hands were on her in seconds, helping to pull her up.

"That is _so_ not fair." Brittany practically moaned in her ear once Santana was standing up again.

Santana giggled against her, her hands running back up to Brittany's hair. "Who said anything about fair." Santana played, her hands falling to cover Brittany's on her hip, putting pressure on them until they were both pushing Santana's butt into Brittany's hips.

Brittany groaned, her blunt nails digging into the fabric of Santana's dress. "Fine." She bit back through gritted teeth as she spun Santana until they were facing each other, her hands on Santana's hips instantly pulling them flush against one another. Santana let out a puff of air at the sudden movement, her arms looping around Brittany's neck as their bodies continued to roll together. Santana's knee pushed between Brittany's thighs, both girls groaning at the added pressure where they needed it most.

Brittany's eyes locked on Santana's as her fingers played at the small of her back, manipulating her movements until they were rocking against one another. The natural beat of the salsa music was lost. They weren't stepping like the others around them. They stopped moving like the sea of couples as they all danced in tune to the Latin music.

They just moved against one another. Back and forth as they slid and grinded together.

Brittany's skin grew hot, her eyes focused on Santana's like they were communicating without words. She felt electrocuted when Santana's thumb played with a tiny curl at the nape of her neck. Everything was hot, but she couldn't stop. Having Santana pressed up against her, dancing like this in public was something she would never get used to. It was as if they were putting on a private show for all of them, even if no one was paying them any attention. She parted her lips, finding it hard to breathe with Santana looking at her with her eyes drowning in lust.

Santana wasn't sure how long they had been dancing like that. All she knew was that she was sweating and she was dying of thirst. And that Brittany looked the same. "Do you want to get something to drink?" She asked, her eyes dropping ever so slightly to look at Brittany's dry and parted lips before she returned to Brittany's eyes.

Brittany hesitated and nodded, her stomach turning when she caught Santana looking at her lips. She felt so charged. Like she needed a release before she wound up exploding. And the only thing she could think to do to release the tension was to crash her lips against Santana's and never stop. But she couldn't do that here. So she nodded again, pulling away from Santana slowly as they turned and walked toward the bar, the daze of their closeness fading as they left the dance floor.

Santana ushered them towards an empty corner of the bar, Brittany right behind her as they walked. The man behind it saw their bracelets, a silent exchange between them as he waited to see what they wanted to drink.

"Two waters." Santana smiled, pointing between her and Brittany. The man nodded and disappeared down the bar, grabbing two glasses as he went.

Santana turned to face Brittany, a little shocked to find her so close and practically pressed up against her.

"Hi." Brittany smirked, her tongue darting between thin lips as she licked away the dryness from their dancing.

Santana chuckled, her hand running up Brittany's arm, tickling the spot around the inside of her elbow. "Are you having fun?" Her eyes dipped to Brittany's still heaving chest, slowing roaming back up Brittany's creamy freckled skin until she made eye contact again.

Brittany nodded and leaned closer to whisper in Santana's ear. "This is like the best foreplay ever." Brittany nipped at the shell of her ear before pulling away, a coy smile snaked over her face.

Santana gulped, heat rising to her already sticky skin. "Do you…do you want to get out of here?" She watched yellow bands of light dance over blue eyes, pale skin glowing under the changing colors as they waited for their drinks.

Brittany's hand curled around Santana's hip, pinching playfully as she shook her head. "There's a lot more I want to do to you on the dance floor Miss Lopez." Brittany purred, turning as the bartender placed their glasses on the bar in front of them. She drank half of it before setting it back down. Santana stood frozen, watching as Brittany added a soft slap to her ass and a wink over her shoulder as she floated back towards the sea of dancing people.

The slowly growing throb between Santana's legs was getting hard to ignore as she watched Brittany's hips roll in circles as she teased Santana by dancing with herself. When long fingers worked their way into her own blonde hair, the knotting in Santana's stomach tightened as she almost spit out her water. She set down her glass with a quick thud as she practically ran to Brittany.

* * *

><p>Brittany's hand was curled around Santana's as they stumbled back into the dark alley, their skin coated in sweat and glitter. Santana's not a hundred percent sure where the glitter came from. They were walking like they were drunk, all giggles and flailing limbs, even though they only had water to drink all evening.<p>

"That…that was…" Brittany panted, turning until her front was pressed into Santana's side. Santana's shoulder pushed against Brittany's chest, and Santana blinked at the realization and remembrance of Brittany forgoing a bra. She momentarily and internally yelled at herself for not noticing the whole time they were dancing.

Brittany stopped walking, her eyes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly as they tried to focus on Santana's. Flashes of the evening played across her mind as she remembered Santana twirling, Santana's cascading hair, Santana's dark eyes, Santana's glowing olive skin. They were pictures she never wanted to forget, and Brittany grinned at Santana in the darkness, bringing their hands together by their sides.

"You are so so beautiful." Brittany whispered, her fingers squeezing Santana's hand to confirm the words and write them into Santana's palm so Santana would never forget them. Santana flushed at the attention, averting her gaze until Brittany squeezed her hand again. "I'm serious." Brittany giggled, her other hand brushing a dead black curl off Santana's shoulder. "And dancing with you…"

Brittany trailed off, looking around them to make sure they were alone. When she was satisfied that they were, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Santana's softly. She didn't add any extra pressure. Just let her lips sit comfortably on Santana's like they were her favorite pillow. When she pulled away, she giggled at the giddy look on Santana's face. "Was a dream come true."

Santana's stomach flipped and dropped, her knees suddenly weak from too much dancing and too much sweetness.

"Thank you." Brittany finished, sealing it with a kiss to the apple of Santana's cheek.

Santana didn't respond, finding it hard to form words, let alone complete sentences, as too many things floated around her mind, making her feel dizzy.

Brittany laced their fingers together and tugged Santana back toward Santana's car that was still parked outside of Breadstix. They walked in comfortable silence, the chirping of crickets and the screeching of bats echoing off the surrounding buildings providing a subtle song to the close of their evening.

When Santana finally found her voice again, she turned to look at Brittany to thank her for teaching her how to salsa dance, and forgot what she was going to say. The way the streetlamps lit up her face, like they were mapping out her freckles against her skin like complex constellations, and the way the curve of her nose outlined the side of her face in shadow was breathtaking. Her collarbones framed her neck and chest like the edges of a beautiful painting. Everything about Brittany had Santana's heart skipping and her lungs collapsing with each step they took.

Brittany felt Santana's stare and turned her head, catching a deep flush and a flash of a toothy smile as Santana ducked her head and turned away.

There wasn't much traffic in Lima after eleven, and when they reached Santana's car, it sat alone in the empty parking lot. Santana opened the passenger door for Brittany, blushing when Brittany curtsied before hopping in. She scrambled to the driver's side, opening the door and sitting on the seat with her feet hanging outside. She bent to take off her heels, her feet throbbing from being crammed in them all night.

She peeled off her shoes, setting them in front of her seat before turning around to start the car. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the passenger seat empty. Her head snapped around, very confused how she didn't hear Brittany's door open if she left the vehicle. She heard a soft honey giggle come from the back seat, and as her head turned to find the source of it, she was met with a sly, catlike smile and nearly black eyes.

"Britt?" Santana breathed, her heart suddenly racing at the way Brittany was looking at her. Like she was practically undressing her with her eyes. Santana's eyes dropped to the expanse of milky, toned thighs, Brittany's dress riding up in her haste to the backseat, exposing more than it had all night. Santana licked her lips and looked back up at Brittany for an answer.

"Come here." Brittany purred instead, her finger extending and beckoning Santana to the backseat to join her.

Santana paused to look around the parking lot, already knowing they were alone, before her eyes settled back on Brittany. "Britt." She hesitated, unsure if it was such a good idea to do what Brittany was insinuating.

"Santana." Brittany mocked, her eyes coloring impossibly darker.

Santana didn't need to be asked a third time. She fumbled her way over the middle console and practically fell onto Brittany's lap. Brittany giggled, pulling Santana up until she was sitting comfortable on top of Brittany's thighs.

"Brittany." Santana groaned a third time as light fingertips walked up the expanse of Santana's bare calves. She tickled over Santana's knees, and came to rest with warm palms flat on Santana's thighs.

"We haven't done it in a car in a long time." Brittany leaned forward, kissing up the column of Santana's neck. "And it was before you said you love me." Brittany added, her tongue tracing the outline of Santana's jaw. "And you know how much I love to do it in a car." Brittany smirked, peppering Santana's cheek with sloppy butterfly kisses. She kissed over the bridge of Santana's nose and onto her other cheek, increasing her speed until Santana relaxed into a delightful laugh.

Brittany pulled away satisfied, knowing she won the battle with Santana's lips stretched impossibly thin in her most adorable smile.

"How can you be so cute and obnoxious while trying to get me to have sex with you in the back of my car?" Santana huffed, her arms resting on Brittany's shoulders, her hands hooking at the back of her neck. Brittany shrugged her shoulders, her cheeks flushing a little. "And how does it always seem to work?" Santana chuckled before crashing their lips together.

Brittany's giggle faded into Santana's lips, her hands squeezing Santana's thighs before working their way to Santana's hips. She pressed her mouth against Santana's when she started to pull away, taking Santana's bottom lip between her own. She could taste the residue of salty sweat still lingering on her skin, the heat of the dance floor following them into Santana's car.

Santana tangled her fingers in blonde hair, frustrated that it was still held together in a loose bun. She silently asked for permission to remove the hair tie, tugging on it and receiving a nip to her lip in return. Once Brittany's hair was free, Santana ran her fingers through it, gripping harder when Brittany's hand dropped to the hem of Santana's dress and began to move it upward.

Brittany pulled the black material over Santana's hips, her finger tracing over the outline of Santana's underwear in the process.

Santana moaned, her hips bucking automatically at the sensation. She needed to breathe, the stuffiness of the already overheated car making it hard for air to reach her lungs when her lips were glued to Brittany's. When Brittany continued to lift the fabric of her dress until it was bunched below her chest, she pulled away, desperate for air.

Brittany took the separation as a sign to pull Santana's dress the rest of the way over her head, throwing it into the front seat to be forgotten until they were done.

"You looked so sexy tonight." Brittany purred as she kissed down the valley between Santana's chest, stopping when she was met with the fabric of Santana's bra. Brittany bit lightly at the top of a full breast, Santana arcing into the sensation as her hands gripped tighter in Brittany's hair.

"I had a good teacher." Santana groaned, her head thrown back as Brittany kissed up the column of her neck.

Brittany made a noise into Santana's skin. Her hands snaked around Santana's back, her fingers dipping into warm flesh as she tugged at the clasp of Santana's bra. The cups loosened around Santana's breasts as Brittany kissed over tanned shoulders, the straps falling down Santana's arms. Brittany pulled it the rest of the way off, throwing it in the front seat.

"Dancing is amazing foreplay." Brittany hummed, her lips traveling down Santana's now uncovered chest. She took a pebbled nipple into her mouth, her tongue flicking against it as it hardened.

Santana moaned in approval, her nails scratching into Brittany's scalp as Brittany's mouth sucked and kissed into her breast. She knew she was already embarrassingly wet. She could feel the fabric of her underwear sticking to her as her hips slightly rocked against Brittany's thighs. The knotting in her stomach coiled tighter and tighter as Brittany kissed across to her other breast, taking the already sensitive nipple between her teeth. Brittany always knew how to apply just the right amount of pressure that had her back bowing in unrestrained pleasure.

"Britt." She breathed, her head snapping back up when Brittany released her nipple. Santana nudged her face up until she was able to press lazy kisses over Brittany's mouth.

"What do you need?" Brittany asked, her voice huskier and smoother as she allowed her finger to dip below the waistband of Santana's underwear.

Santana practically growled, her hips bucking as she bit down on Brittany's lower lip. "I need you to stop teasing me." She groaned, freeing one of her hands from Brittany's hair and dropping them to Brittany's chest. She palmed Brittany's breast through her dress, manipulating it between the fabric when Brittany giggled at Santana's desperation.

Brittany pressed her fingers into Santana's hip, causing Santana's stomach to roll and tighten in anticipation. "Sit up." Brittany mumbled against Santana's lips, a smug smile stretching her face as she waited for Santana to do as she was told.

Santana pressed up on her knees, lifting her thighs from Brittany's in the process. Brittany kissed over Santana's chest as it rose, her fingers looping in the material of Santana's underwear as she began to drag it down her legs. Santana used Brittany's shoulders for balance as she lifted each leg to remove them, before falling back on to Brittany's lap.

Brittany could feel Santana's arousal against the top of her thighs, her own stomach somersaulting with desire. She kissed Santana deep and hard, one hand cupping Santana's breast as she pinched a nipple, the other falling to grip Santana's hip for support.

Brittany's dress had ridden so far up her thighs that Santana could feel the heat radiating from her. Both her hands dropped to the hem of it, silently begging for permission to remove it.

Brittany arced her back, her lips gliding over Santana's jaw as Santana lifted the material. She pulled away from Santana so it could be pulled over her head, Santana throwing it on the seat next to them.

Santana wasted no time in appreciating the newly exposed skin, her hands instantly working Brittany's nipples between her fingers.

Brittany brought their lips back together with a soft groan, one hand dropping to dance up the inside of Santana's thigh. She felt the muscle quiver beneath her touch, Santana's body rocking against her thighs.

Her skin was hot and sweaty like they were still dancing. Santana's breath against her mouth was warm and almost suffocating. But the good kind of suffocating. The kind that happens while riding the best ride at an amusement park and it's hard to breathe because there is so much excitement.

Santana tugged on Brittany's lower lip when her finger got close to the crease in her hip. She groaned when Brittany's hand just sat there, unmoving, as she kissed down Santana's neck and back up again.

"I said stop teas-" Santana began to growl when Brittany curled her fingers and dipped one inside of her. She smirked at the mixture of pleasure and fading annoyance on Santana's face as she pulled her finger back out. She waited for Santana to exhale before plunging two fingers back in, her own arousal growing at feel of Santana tightening around her.

Santana adjusted to the intrusion before allowing Brittany to guide her hips up and down. Her hands gripped on to Brittany's shoulders for support as she slowly began to ride Brittany's fingers, Brittany helping her keep an even pace with the hand on her hip. She fell to capture Brittany's lips with her own on a downward thrust, grunting into the taste of Brittany's tongue as it played along her lower lip.

Santana's hands fell to cup Brittany's breasts as she pulled away from Brittany's mouth. Her head fell back as she quickened her pace, her fingers indenting the skin around Brittany's breasts as she squeezed for balance.

"God you're beautiful like this." Brittany panted, watching the way Santana's face scrunched every time their thighs met. Santana's lips were parted with pleasure, and her body was radiating so much heat Brittany felt like she was being burned with each touch.

Santana squeezed again when Brittany curled her fingers, hitting a spot within her that made her knees buckle. She struggled in her next movement upward, the coiling in her stomach spiraling out of control. "Fuck I'm close already." Santana moaned, feeling Brittany's nipples pebble against her palms.

Brittany leaned forward to lick up Santana's throat, her own hips rolling at the sensation of Santana's pulse beneath her lips.

Santana rocked against Brittany's fingers, her pace faltering as she felt her stomach beginning to pinch and uncoil.

Brittany felt Santana clenching around her fingers, so she brought her thumb up to circle a wet nub.

Santana hissed at the sensation, her balance wavering as she fell against Brittany's front, her lips pressing against Brittany's shoulder in shuttering kisses. Her hips circled in tiny spasms around Brittany's fingers as the first wave of her orgasm washed over her.

Brittany's hand that was on Santana's hip snaked around to frame the small of Santana's back as her body convulsed in pleasure. Santana's hot breath against her skin sent small shivers down her spine as Santana's hips bucked a few more times. She felt hot and out of breath, but she wanted to draw out every ounce of Santana's pleasure, her thumb still circling a now overly sensitive bud.

"Okay, okay." Santana breathed in protest, her hips still bucking on top of Brittany's thighs.

Brittany tilted her head until she could kiss Santana's temple, slowing pulling her fingers out of Santana. Santana shuddered at the sensation, kissing the crook of Brittany's neck in the process. She felt tired but rejuvenated. Her body was buzzing and all she wanted to do was fall asleep lying against Brittany's chest.

Brittany loved the way Santana looked in her post orgasmic glow. She could feel Santana's heart beating against her chest, and she wound her arms around Santana to hold her closer. "I want to sit here for a while, but we should soon be getting home before my mom calls the cops because she thinks I got lost in the sewers again." Brittany purred as her fingers tickled over Santana's spine.

Santana groaned before peeling herself off Brittany's chest, smoothing the hair off her sweaty forehead. "We're not going anywhere anytime soon." Santana smirked, and before Brittany could even open her mouth to ask, Santana was kneeling between her legs, her underwear already pulled off her ankles.

"Baby." Brittany cooed, her eyes lighting slightly as her hands tangled in Santana's hair.

Santana smirked before kissing the inside of Brittany's creamy thigh. She bit softly, loving the way Brittany's smile faded instantly with a low guttural groan. Before Brittany could beg for what she really wanted, Santana's tongue ran up her, tasting the mix of sweet Brittany and salty sweat.

Brittany's body slipped further down the seat, shoving herself into Santana's awaiting mouth. She knew she was turned on, but she didn't realize how badly she needed Santana until her mouth was covering her, parting her with a soft velvety tongue.

Santana didn't have much room to work with, and grew increasing annoyed when her back kept hitting the middle console. She kissed Brittany's center before pulling back, licking moist heat from her lips. She grabbed one of Brittany's legs and threw it over her shoulder, pushing her other leg further apart. From the one street lamp at the end of the parking lot, Santana was able to see the light reflecting off of Brittany's obvious arousal, and she felt herself get wet again at the sight.

She dove back in, her tongue circling Brittany with renewed hunger. She felt Brittany's hips cant as an unintelligible noise escaped past dry and parted lips. Her fingers dug into the skin of Brittany's hips as she moved her mouth lower, teasing around her entrance.

"Please." Brittany panted, tugging lightly on raven hair.

Santana pulled away, licking her lips as she allowed herself to appreciate the view in front of her. Brittany was glowing and panting in anticipation, her breasts bobbing with each labored breath her chest heaved. She looked radiant and beautiful. The most beautiful Santana had ever seen her. She wanted to take a picture just so she could look at it whenever she wanted, but the low groan that slipped out of Brittany's mouth was enough of a warning for her.

Her tongue snaked inside of Brittany, the taste and feel causing her own moan to be mumbled into Brittany's sensitive flesh. Santana opened her eyes and looked up at Brittany's face. Her eyes were snapped shut, her head thrown back against the seat.

"Look at me baby." Santana whispered, licking up Brittany's folds until blue eyes slowly fluttered open to look down at her. Santana smiled before pushing her tongue back inside, moving in tiny circles.

Brittany's hands pulled on Santana's hair, her brain growing fuzzy at the overstimulation. Feeling Santana inside of her was enough to make her stomach explode. But the added pleasure of watching Santana eat her out was causing her chest to expand and deflate in rapid succession.

Slick noises reverberated around the inside of Santana's car. Brittany's moans of approval added a harmony to them that Santana would have found slightly amusing if they were coming from any other person. But the sounds only drove Santana to quicken her pace, sliding her tongue in and out of Brittany in a figure eight motion.

Brittany's hips bucked, her hands firm in Santana's hair as their eyes remained locked on each other. Her stomach rolled as her orgasm neared release.

Santana could sense Brittany was close as her walls began to tighten around her tongue. She pressed further into Brittany's core, curling her tongue slightly as Brittany let out the most delicious and heavenly moan. Her hips rolled into Santana's mouth, trapping Santana's tongue inside of her. Santana kept her tongue moving as best she could, causing Brittany's body to move with each wave of her orgasm.

When Brittany's walls began to loosen around her tongue, Santana pulled out, licking at the moisture still coating Brittany. The satisfied look washed over Brittany's face was picturesque. Santana sat on her knees, staring without shame as Brittany came down from her high.

She smiled and kissed up Brittany's stomach and between still heaving breasts, not stopping until her lips molded around Brittany's and she was once again sitting in her lap. A streak of light illuminated the car, followed by a loud crack of thunder, but neither really noticed as their tongues slid together in Brittany's mouth.

They pulled apart when the light pitter-patter of rain fell against the metal of Santana's car.

"We need to get home." Santana mused, her fingertip running over Brittany's collarbone.

Brittany nodded, kissing the corner of Santana's mouth before sitting up. Santana giggled when she looked around the interior of her car, their clothes thrown like the interior of a hoarder's house. She leaned to the side, grabbing Brittany's dress and helping her back into it.

Once Brittany was covered enough for them to go home, she scooted off her lap, reaching into the front seat for her own dress. They didn't bother with their underwear or Santana's bra, throwing the garments into Santana's purse. They both climbed into the front seat, laughing when Brittany's foot got tangled in the seatbelt somehow and she landed ungracefully on her stomach.

Santana dug through her purse for her cell phone, pulling the device and her keys out. She pressed the center button to light up her screen, noticing a missed call and voicemail from her father. She lifted the phone to her ear and pressed play to listen before she got distracted.

"Shit." Brittany cursed, the light from her own phone illuminating her face. "My mom's freaking out. I didn't realize how late it was." Brittany turned to look at Santana sympathetically. "I'm sorry we can't like enjoy this moment, but we need to get home before she really does call the police."

Santana smiled and nodded in understanding, turning the keys in the ignition as she put on her seatbelt. Her father's voicemail was unheard as it played in her lap, his inquiry and hopeful proposition fading beneath the sound of thunder and rain, the radio coming on as Santana pulled out of her parking spot.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I would like to apologize that it took this long for this update. I definitely didn't intend for that, but my beta and I were busy little bees this past month. Thank you Frogsrcool for helping flesh out this story and taking it further than I had ever imagined. And thank you, all of you for every kind message and review I've received. Thank you to those of you who have followed me on tumblr and messaged me. I enjoy talking to all of you. Also, I will be writing a new story. I already have the first three chapters done. So if you want more information on that or have any questions, message me on tumblr :)

Thank you again. This story has been a joy to write.

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen - I am Hers and She is Mine<strong>

Brittany laid in bed, staring up at the few glow in the dark stars she had stuck to her ceiling. She remembered how a few fell off every summer when she would leave her window open because of the heat, giggling a little at the memory of Santana waking up one morning in seventh grade with a comet sticker on her forehead.

She tried to get comfortable. Turning on her side and bringing her knees to her chest as she hugged her pillow. It was a poor substitute for Santana's warm body that was currently sleeping on the couch in the living room.

Brittany huffed and grabbed her phone from the spot on the bed next to her. The screen lit up, casting her in a bright halo as she typed away at it. Within seconds, her phone vibrated in her hand.

_Ya I'm awake_

Brittany smiled, shifting until she was lying on her back again. _I miss you._

_I'm sorry I got us in trouble by keeping u past curfew_

Brittany chuckled, shaking her head in the darkness of her room. She was most definitely not upset that they got in trouble. _I'm not. 2nite was the best date EVER!_

_:) You're the best date ever._

The butterflies in Brittany's stomach fluttered and she felt her lips curling impossibly wide. She knew she was blushing and she needed Santana in her bed now. _Come up here._

_Hell no. Your mom banished me to the couch. I'm not getting into any more trouble._

Brittany pouted, turning back to her side. _U can sneak back down b4 any1 gets up._

_Britt._

Brittany could picture Santana whining, weighing the options of whether she should take the risk or not. Brittany knew she probably had her cute scrunchy face on and she really wanted to kiss her. _Please. I can't get comfy. _

_If I get kicked out of ur house, I'm kicking ur ass. _

Brittany giggled as she read over the last text before she heard soft footsteps outside her bedroom door. The door creaked open and Santana fell into her arms with tiny butterfly kisses before she even had time to put her phone away.

"Hey baby." Brittany squealed, pressing her lips against Santana's.

"Hi." Santana smiled, resting her head in the hollow of Brittany's neck. "This is so much more comfortable than your couch." She murmured, kissing the swallow that traveled down Brittany's throat.

"Sorry." Brittany whined, tightening her grip around Santana's shoulders. She breathed in the scent of her shampoo in Santana's hair, and listened to the soft puffs of Santana's breathing, her own pulse quickly matching it as her eyes started to slip closed. She found herself a lot more tired now that she was comfortable with Santana cuddled on top of her.

"My dad called while we were out. He left a voicemail." Santana breathed, startling Brittany a little after so much silence.

It took her a minute to come out of the sleep she had started drifting into, stretching her back to make herself more awake. "What'd he say?" she asked, her hand rubbing up and down Santana's back.

"He wants me to come to dinner tomorrow." Santana whispered, nuzzling her nose against Brittany's neck.

Brittany felt Santana's shoulders tense beneath her fingers, and she knew there was more to it than a simple dinner between her and her dad. But instead of prying, she waited for Santana to tell her.

Santana pushed her ear harder against Brittany's chest until all she could hear was the soft thud of Brittany's heart. "He wants me to have dinner with me and my mom." She breathed out, her voice a little more tense. Brittany's fingers faltered slightly before her movements continued down Santana's back. She felt Santana's warm breath on her skin as she continued to keep her breathing normal. Brittany tried her best to keep hers normal too. She was nervous and worried for Santana and her mom, the images of Santana crying on her front porch vivid in her mind, but she didn't want Santana to be the one comforting her right now. She needed to keep calm so Santana would keep calm.

"What are you going to do?" Brittany asked after a moment, her hands tickling through charcoal hair at the top of Santana's back.

Santana stayed quiet, her arms looped around Brittany like a kid and her favorite teddy bear. "I don't know." She tightened her hold on Brittany just a little bit harder. "I don't know."

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><p>"Good morning ladies." Mrs. Pierce smiled as they walked into the kitchen. Santana returned the gesture as she walked toward the full coffee pot on the granite counter top.<p>

"Morning mom." Brittany replied with a little more cheer than Santana could muster this early without the aid of caffeine.

"How'd you sleep on the couch Santana?" Mrs. Pierce smirked over the top of her own mug of coffee.

They all knew Santana had been caught. She had tried to wake up early to sneak back down to the couch but Brittany kept giving small lazy kisses that made her want to stay in bed. When she finally tiptoed down the hall towards the living room, Mrs. Pierce was walking out of her bedroom headed toward the kitchen. Santana tried to play it off as her going to the bathroom, but it wasn't until she was on the couch that she realized the bathroom was in the complete opposite direction. She chuckled and replied with a soft "good" anyways, hoping Mrs. Pierce wouldn't be too upset. Brittany's mom let out a little laugh and Santana was grateful she wasn't going to be kicked out for disobeying her.

Once Santana fixed her cup of coffee and Brittany had poured a glass of orange juice and made them both some toast, they sat down at the kitchen table with Brittany's mom. "School starts next week." Mrs. Pierce smiled, flipping a page of the newspaper in front of her. "Are you girls excited for your senior year?"

Brittany nodded with a huge grin around a mouthful of crunchy toast and strawberry jam. "It's going to be my favorite year. I can already tell." She winked in Santana's general direction, giggling at the faint blush that painted over Santana's cheeks. "We're gonna be in Glee Club and Cheerios again. And that means two national championships. And then there's senior prom and senior pictures. Senior skip day and senior dress up day." Brittany rambled, her smile never fading.

"Breathe baby." Santana chuckled as she took another sip from her mug. She was so wrapped up in Brittany's excitement and all the promising possibilities senior year had to offer that she completely forgot to be embarrassed by the term of endearment in front of Brittany's mom.

Mrs. Pierce laughed at them as she turned the newspaper page. They finished their breakfast in relative silence before Brittany's mom said something about taking Kenzie shopping for school supplies and excused herself from the table. She tossed the newspaper on the counter by the garage door and then left to go get Kenzie ready.

Brittany turned to face Santana, a bit of strawberry jam sticking to the corner of her mouth. Santana smiled and leaned forward, running her tongue over the spot with a satisfied hum. "Why have I never licked jam off of you before? It makes you taste so much sweeter." Santana licked her lips into a smirk before kissing the corner of Brittany's mouth.

"Because it's sticky." Brittany whined with a smile to her voice. "And I'm already sweet." She half-pouted, giggling when Santana tried to kiss it from her face.

"Damn right." Santana nodded, kissing the apple of Brittany's cheek before sitting back and reaching for her coffee. "You're the sweetest person I know."

Brittany's smile grew and a soft pink dusted over the freckles on her cheeks. Santana made her feel so special and she didn't understand how one person could make her feel so loved. She felt so lucky to have someone look at her the way Santana did, and happy because Santana always got her jokes and didn't make her feel stupid. She absolutely loved that Santana was staying with her because that meant they could cuddle every night, and she could kiss Santana right before she fell asleep and as soon as she woke up.

But then she remembered the reason why Santana was staying with her, and the phone call Santana had gotten last night. She wanted Santana to know that she was there for her, that she would support whatever decision Santana made.

Brittany's face pulled a little tighter, trying to be more serious as she reached over to squeeze a warm, tan thigh. "Have you decided what you're going to do today?"

Santana shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Brittany could tell she was trying to act indifferent, but the softness and almost scared look in her eyes said differently. Brittany could tell she really wanted to go and see what her parents had to say, even though she was afraid to be let down again.

"It's okay to want to go." Brittany offered, her hand running up and down Santana's thigh in a comforting motion.

Santana sighed, seeming to dispel the weight of pretending she didn't care in the process. "I just…I don't…what if…" she sighed again and shook her head.

"It's okay." Brittany repeated, moving closer so she could pull Santana against her. She weaved her fingers through raven hair, combing through tiny knots as she felt Santana curl into her further.

"I just want them both to be okay with this." Santana breathed barely above a whisper. She felt the familiar sting of tears in the corners of her eyes, but she knew she wasn't going to cry. She didn't want to cry.

"I know." Brittany kissed against her temple. "But if it doesn't happen the way you want it to, that doesn't mean it's not going to be okay. Okay?" Brittany didn't want Santana setting herself up for failure. She didn't want her going to her house and expecting her mother to welcome her home with open arms. And she definitely didn't want to watch Santana deflate and curl back in on herself when that didn't happen.

Brittany wanted Santana to know that just because some people didn't agree with their relationship, didn't make it wrong. She wanted Santana to know that even if those people were family, it didn't mean Santana was doing anything wrong. She just wanted Santana to know that people still loved her, still cared about her, and that they could get through this, together.

Santana nodded her head against Brittany's chest, allowing the weight of Brittany's words to settle in her stomach like a big breakfast. She allowed the comfort and the unspoken promise that everything would be alright to wash through her and she nuzzled her nose into the warm skin of Brittany's neck, placing a soft kiss there before pulling back to her coffee.

Brittany watched her take a sip, content to just watch her the rest of the day to make sure she didn't break, but she knew that wasn't what Santana wanted or needed.

Brittany meant what she said earlier. Their senior year was going to be amazing, and it wasn't just because they were finally together. Although that was a big reason in Brittany's eyes. But what was making it so much better than any other year was the simple fact that Santana was accepting herself. She was finally learning to see everything that Brittany saw in her. Everything that made her special. And even if they still had to hide their relationship from the rest of the student body, Brittany was okay with that. Because Santana wasn't hiding from herself anymore.

"I think I'm going to go." Santana breathed over the steady steam of her coffee mug, cutting through Brittany's thoughts. Brittany nodded, understanding there was never another option for Santana, even if she pretended there to be. "I have to." Santana added, and Brittany nodded again, this time a promising smile snaking over face.

"Okay." Brittany commented, her voice low and caring, causing Santana to smile and nod in return. She sat next to Santana and watched her finish her breakfast, sneaking a hand to squeeze Santana's knee when she swallowed the last of her coffee.

Everything would be okay.

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><p>Brittany watched her get ready in silence. She watched as Santana put on clothes she hadn't seen her wear in months, as if she was trying to cover up her mistakes with fabric. She watched as Santana straightened each strand of her hair until Brittany's entire room smelled of burnt shampoo. She watched as Santana applied make up to her eyes and cheeks like she was going on a date, dark liner and fake lashes that fluttered against rosy cheeks.<p>

It was weird and yet Brittany knew not to question it. If Santana needed to do it then Brittany was going to let her.

As Santana made to exit Brittany's room, Brittany finally stood from her bed and walked toward her, her hands instantly falling to Santana's waist to hold her in front of her.

Santana's eyes looked wide and scattered, like a frightened rabbit looking for the best possible place to hide. Brittany ran her thumb over a hip, trying to soothe the nerves away. "I love you." She smiled, running her thumb across the same place over and over again, like she was trying to seal her words into Santana's skin like a warm brandy. She wanted them to sink into Santana, wash through her and keep her warm and safe while she wasn't able to.

Santana nodded, her throat too dry to open her mouth and repeat the sentiment. She could tell by the soft and loving look in Brittany's eyes that Brittany understood, and for that she was more than grateful.

"I have something for you." Brittany smiled, squeezing Santana's hip before tearing herself away and walking back to her bed. Santana watched her as she picked up a white envelope. She felt guilty that she hadn't even realized it was sitting there, and she wondered how long she had blocked everything but getting ready out of her mind. Brittany's eyes remained bright as she handed it to Santana, her name written in Brittany's loopy cursive sprawled across the front.

"But I don't want you to open it till after your dinner, okay?" Santana nodded. "No matter what happens or what is said, I want you to find a place by yourself and open this and read it. And then if you need me to come get you, you call me." Brittany instructed, her sweet voice almost too much for Santana to bear with the amount of nerves fluttering through her.

"Okay," Santana nodded again.

"Okay." Brittany repeated before pulling Santana into her, looping her arms around her and into a tight hug. "I love you." Brittany echoed before pulling back and kissing Santana, soft and full.

Santana nodded, too many words and feelings swimming around in her head for her to get out an appropriate response.

But Brittany knew, and Santana allowed that comfort to hold her as she left. She turned the ignition of her car and as she pulled out of Brittany's driveway, the place that she had called a second home for almost ten years, and turned in the direction of her house, she had never felt more like she was leaving behind her family than she did as she watched Brittany's retreating face in the living room window.

Santana decided to tuck that feeling in the corner of her heart to process later. Even though she was pretty sure she already knew what it meant.

She wanted to listen to music to distract her frantic mind, but every song felt too loud and invading. She briefly wondered if she should call Brittany and ask her to tell her a story about Lord Tubbington just to keep her mind from exploding. But as she took her time to weigh her options, she realized she was already in her neighborhood, her body driving home as if on autopilot.

Her dad was waiting for her when she pulled up, and she swallowed hard at whether or not that was a good thing or a bad one.

"Hi peanut." He greeted, wrapping her in a hug when she got out of her car. He smelled like aftershave and coffee, and she welcomed the familiarity of bedtime stories and tuck-ins when she was little wash over her.

"Hi papi." She smiled despite herself, holding on to the hope that her dad, who obviously loved her so much and wouldn't want to hurt her on purpose, would not invite her to dinner if something bad were going to happen. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him about tonight, but she decided to just trust him and follow his lead.

Her mother wasn't in the kitchen when he offered her a drink. She wasn't in the living room when the two of them sat down. Santana tried to keep the negative thoughts threatening to bubble out of her mind at bay, choosing to focus on the way her dad was trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

"How have you been mija?" He asked with a jovial smile, sipping at the lemonade he had poured himself. She took a sip of her own glass, a satisfied happiness settling in her stomach at the familiar and yummy taste. Her father made the best lemonade, and she never realized how much she missed it until now.

"Good. Really good." She answered automatically as she thought about Brittany, but quickly regretted it when she saw her father's face fall just a little. "I mean it's been nice being with Brittany." She amended, offering a small smile, hoping he would get the underlying meaning of how she still missed home though.

He nodded, crossing his legs in his chair. "You look good."

She blushed under his words, nodding her head in thanks. She looked around the room as if the answers to all her questions would be hidden along the walls or among the expensive art decorating them. She felt more nervous now that she was in her house and talking to her dad, knowing that her mom was in the same place and yet still refused to be in the same room as her daughter. Santana felt like it was the calm before a storm, the way the air cools and the winds change, and everything's peaceful until the sky opens up and wages war with rain and thunder and strikes of lightening.

Her father noticed her flickering eyes and set his drink down on the coffee table. "Mija," he began, his voice soft as if he didn't want to startle Santana. When she turned back to face him, he smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions as to why I invited you here today. And where your mother is." She nodded and he smiled again. "Remember when I told you that I would talk to her after I left you at Brittany's?"

She nodded, rolling the glass of her lemonade between her hands to keep them busy. "Yeah," she said with hesitancy.

"And remember how I said she grew up differently than me?" She nodded again. "I need you to do me a favor mija." His voice grew softer if that were even possible. She leaned forward in her seat, straining to hear every word he spoke. "I need you to give her a chance to explain herself. I need you to sit here and listen to what she has to say. I need you to try and forgive her and talk to her like the adult I know you are." He smiled very small and hesitant, his eyes big and soft as he watched the changing emotions flicker over his daughter's face.

Santana wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't that. She felt surprised and hurt and angry and relieved all at once. She felt too much and confused and just stared back at him, allowing the words he spoke to repeat in her mind until she understood them.

Her mother wanted to speak with her. Her mother wanted to explain. Her father believed that whatever she had to say was a good thing, and Santana's heart fluttered with little hope as she allowed that possibility to settle low in her gut. The thought that maybe her mother would apologize caused fresh tears to pool in her eyes.

"Okay," she nodded, even though a corner of her mind was screaming at her to not get her hopes up. To not believe that her mother had anything nice to say to her. That her mother had slapped her and called her a disgrace.

Santana chose to ignore that part and focus on her father's smiling face. On his nodding and the way he hurried out of his chair and towards her. The way he kissed the top of her head, mumbling a soft thank you before exiting the room.

She sat there unsure of what she was supposed to do, but figured her father was probably getting her mother from wherever she had been waiting. She sipped down the rest of her drink and set it on the coffee table next to her father's glass, and waited patiently for whatever was about to happen next.

It didn't take long for her father to return, her mother following closely behind. She briefly wondered if he was going to stay with her, but he smiled at the both of them before leaving the room again. Santana wasn't sure if she was glad or scared that he had left, but decided to focus on her mother as she sat down where her father had been sitting a few minutes ago.

"Mija." She breathed, and Santana could have sworn she heard a bit of regret and sadness in the simple word. But she fought hard to not let her hope get the better of her. Her mother had a lot to say before Santana forgave her for what she did.

"Mami." Santana echoed, crossing her legs as she settled back into the couch and waited. She watched as her mother's eyes scanned her body, taking in her attire and the way she sat half guarded. Her eyes roamed over her mother and took in the way her cheeks seemed sunken in and the way her eyes didn't have as much fire in them as she remembered. She had never seen her mother look so small and not put together.

Santana felt fear take over again as she let her eyes settle on her mother's.

Her mother's mouth opened and closed and Santana waited. Even though she felt nervous and grew more scared at every passing second of silence, she waited. Because it was obvious her mother had something to say. And Santana promised her father that she would act like an adult and give her mother her time to say what she had to say.

"I'm sorry."

Santana whipped her eyes back to her mother's from where they had wandered to the carpet when she couldn't take looking at her mother in silence any longer. She briefly wondered if maybe she had imagined the words, but the almost pained look on her mother's face was proof enough that she had said them.

Santana barely nodded before her mother repeated them.

"I'm so so sorry." Her voice was laced with so much hurt and pain that the tears in Santana's eyes threatened to break free and roll down her cheeks. She blinked them back and set her lips in a thin line, waiting for her mother to continue because sorry just wasn't enough, even if it was the last thing she expected her to say.

Her mother shifted, eyes darting to the floor for a second before settling back on Santana, glassy and full of her own tears.

Santana swallowed at the sight.

When her mother didn't continue, Santana couldn't take the silence any longer. She wanted answers. "Then why?" She breathed, her voice hitching with the sudden sadness and anger that mixed together as she spoke.

Her mother shook her head, her chin quivering so slightly that if Santana hadn't been studying her face she would have missed it. "Mija, you don't understand."

"Then make me understand." Santana spoke louder than she had intended. "Because you're right. I don't understand. I don't understand how a mother could hit her daughter and kick her out just because she didn't like something about her." Santana spat, flinching at the way her mother recoiled from the harshness of her voice.

"I know." Her mother nodded. "I know." She repeated, her voice so broken that Santana was sure this wasn't her mother. This wasn't the same woman who had done those things. It wasn't the same woman who made her feel bad about herself with just the look of her eyes. It wasn't the same woman who had pushed Santana for years to be someone she didn't even want to be.

"Explain." Santana said again, arms crossing across her chest as she waited.

Her mother nodded, breathing in deep as she tried to compose herself. "Your father and I chose to raise you semi out of the church. Yes we still went and yes we still believe, but we didn't want you growing up in the church." Her mother began, and it was the last thing Santana expected her mother to begin with. But everything about her mother tonight was not what Santana expected so she listened and took in everything that was being told to her.

"That's how your father was brought up, and he convinced me that that would be best for you. But," her mother inhaled loudly, and Santana could hear the slight quiver in her voice. "But that was not how I was raised. I was brought up in the church. I spent more time there than I did school, some weeks more than my own house. My parents were very strict in what I was taught about religion and what I believed, and made sure that I knew the different between right and wrong in God's eyes."

Santana nodded, understanding a little what her mother was talking about. It reminded her of Quinn and her relationship with her parents.

"And although we brought you up differently, it's hard to just forget everything I was taught. It was hard. And your grandparents weren't exactly thrilled with our decision. Over time I got angry. I got angry because even when I listened and obeyed every rule I was given growing up, I still somehow managed to disappoint my parents. I still managed to do something wrong." Her mother hiccupped back a small sob, and Santana's heart broke at the sound and sight of it. For the first time in her life she felt bad for her mother, and she had to pinch her arms in order to keep herself sitting to hear the rest because the sudden urge to give her mother a long and tight hug overwhelmed her.

"I took my anger out on you mija. I tried to make you perfect and…and be the daughter that would be acceptable. That would be the daughter everyone would be proud of. Because I thought that even though you weren't raised in the church, I could mold you into this person that people would still love and admire and look up to. I wanted people to be jealous of you. I wanted people to respect you. And most of all I wanted people to fear you." Her mother's voice dropped off after that, a shaky hand coming up to swipe at her eyes.

"Why?" Santana gasped, unable to hold it in any longer. Why would her mother want all of this for her? She understood now that she had been raised differently, but why do all of this to her?

"Because I knew." Her mother sighed, locking eyes with Santana.

Santana shivered at the contact, confusion flashing over her face. "Knew what?"

"About you and Brittany." Her mother answered, and Santana gasped out a broken cry at the revelation. "God I knew. I knew for so long and I just wanted…I just wanted…I wanted better for you." Santana's face flashed with anger at that and her mom quickly continued. "I wanted better for you in the sense that I knew how people would react because I was brought up to hate it. I was told that it was a sin. That…that if you were…if you were…"

"Gay mami." Santana offered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother nodded. "If you were gay…then you would be hated by people for no reason. That people would treat you differently and disrespect you, and I didn't want that. So I tried to make you this person that didn't care about people. That thought you were better than them. That was better than them." Her mother explained, her chest deflating with the words she had been holding on to for too long. "I just wanted you to be someone special. And I never stopped to realize that you already were." Her mother nearly cried, and Santana's heart and stomach dropped with the weight of her words.

But still too many things didn't make sense. If her mother knew all along, why react the way she did? Why make Santana feel like such a disappointment?

Santana swallowed her tears and anger to ask. "Why then? Why keep being so…so cold to me? Why make me feel like I wasn't loved by you? Why make me feel like such a disgrace when you supposedly knew for so long?"

Her mother shook her head like she didn't want to say. As if the words she had to say weren't good enough, or she literally didn't have a reason at all. "I do love you mija. I do. I just wanted…wanted better for you. And I went about it the wrong way."

Santana stared in disbelief. It really wasn't an answer, but it was as good of an answer as she was going to get. She knew that.

"So what now?" Santana asked, because she knew her mother was way out of her comfort zone by talking like this. And she knew her mother was probably only doing this because of her father. And as much as she still wanted to be mad at her mother for what she did, Santana found that she didn't want her mother to continue doing something she didn't like to do.

Santana knew all about that, and she knew how bad it hurt and sucked.

Mrs. Lopez looked back up at her daughter and sighed, rolling her shoulders like she didn't have a clue. "I don't know." She answered, shrugging her shoulders again. "I honestly don't know."

Santana appreciated the honesty, even if it didn't help the gnawing feeling in her gut. She half expected her mother to suddenly be okay with everything after her apology and the way she explained herself. But Santana realized that wasn't how it was. Just because her mother was sorry didn't mean she fully accepted her daughter. And it definitely did give either of them answers as to how to move forward.

"Do you…will you ever be okay with me being who I am? With me being in love with Brittany?" Santana whispered, afraid of the answer as her heart clenched in her chest.

Again her mother sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I'd like to think so, but I don't know."

Again Santana appreciated the honesty, even if it wasn't the answer she was hoping for.

"Okay." Santana breathed, refusing to let the tears in her eyes fall. "Okay." She repeated, trying to think through and process everything.

"But I'd like to have dinner with my family tonight, if that's still okay with you." Her mother added, her lips curling into a small smile. Santana looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity within them. She saw as the fear and sadness slowly began to seep away, replaced once more with the fire that usually lived there. But it wasn't a mean fire like Santana was used to. It seemed smaller and less threatening, but still heated nonetheless.

Santana nodded. She could do dinner.

"I'm going to continue to stay with Brittany." Santana watched as her mother's face flashed with relief, and Santana knew it was the right decision. Even if her mother looked like she was going to protest that decision. "If her parents allow it. It's what's best for right now. Maybe when you're okay with it, or when I don't feel like you hate me because of it, I'll come back. But right now I feel safe and loved there."

Her mother nodded and that was that.

It may not have been what Santana wanted. It may not have been the most promising conversation. But Santana felt better than she had since her mother had kicked her out.

She felt sad that her mother had to grow up the way she did. She felt angry that her mother had forced so many things on her out of fear. She felt annoyed that her mother couldn't just accept everything.

But most of all she felt hopeful. That her mother would one day not hate her or think of her as a disappointment. That one day her mother would forego what she had been taught about right and wrong and just love her daughter no matter what. That one day she would be allowed to come home again, and proudly show off Brittany as her girlfriend to both of her parents.

She followed her mother out of the living room and noticed for the first time the familiar smell of her father's enchiladas wafting from the kitchen. She helped her mother set the dining room table, and sat down in her usual seat. She bowed her head and closed her eyes when her mother began to pray, and she ate her meal without a fuss. They talked about insignificant things and smiled like it was a normal night in the Lopez household. And Santana had never felt more at home and uncomfortable at the same time.

* * *

><p>After dinner Santana excused herself to her room to go to the bathroom, and instantly regretted the choice not to use the one downstairs. Her room remained how she had last seen it, the bits of paper still scattered on the floor by her closet. It felt like someone was holding her heart and squeezing as hard as they could. All of Brittany's letters. All her beautiful words and time felt like they had been taken for granted as they littered her floor. She knew the letters were safe in a box in the back of her closet, but it still hurt to see the reasons ripped to shreds.<p>

Then she remembered the letter Brittany had given her before she left tonight. She sat down on her bed and pulled it from her back pocket, opening it up as quickly as possible.

_Santana,_

_Summer's almost over and that means this is my last letter. I started writing them to show you how much I love you, hoping that one day you would see it and understand just how amazing you are. But you have. And what's even better is you love me too. And although I could write a million letters describing all the things I love about you, I'd rather show you now. I'd rather take you to the places I fell in love with you. I'd rather hold your hand and whisper in your ear all the things you do to me. I'd rather share this journey with you now, instead of just telling you about it._

_I don't know what's going to happen with your parents, but I do know that you will always have a home to come home to. Because your home is with me. Of that I'm absolutely sure. I may not know what senior year has in store for us, or how people will react when you tell them about us, whenever you're ready, but I do know that everything will be okay because I have you and you have me. _

_When summer started I made you a promise. I promised that with these words I would show you the passion behind our touches, the desire behind our kisses, and the intensity behind our love. _

_At the end of summer I'm making you a new promise. I promise that I will continue to show you the passion behind our touches by making sure you know how beautiful you are every single day. By promising that I will never take my hands off of you, unless we're in like school or cheering and stuff where it'd be kind of hard to touch you all the time. But you will know that you are so beautiful and sexy and that I will want to touch you all day every day, and that my touches aren't just lustful gropes, but loving caresses._

_I also promise that I will continue to show you the desire behind our kisses by kissing you good night and good morning and every other good minute in between. I promise to give you quick and sweet kisses between classes when you're ready. And to give you heated and passionate ones in the back seat of your car. I promise to tease you with lazy kisses and ones that make you moan and giggle for more. To kiss not just your lips, but every inch of you. To show you that every part of you deserves my kisses._

_I also promise that I will continue to show you the intensity behind our love by treating you like you should be treated, like a princess. By taking you out on dates and reminding you how special you are. By supporting every decision you make, and even if I don't like them or agree with them, still being there for you because I love you. I promise to share my dreams with you and to try my hardest to make yours come true. To help you cross off everything that's on your secret bucket list that I know about :) To make sure you never go a day without knowing how loved you truly are. _

_Santana I may not always be good at knowing smart things like you. And I may not always know the right things to say and do like you. But I know people, and more importantly I know you. I know how you feel even when you try and hide it. I know what you want and what you don't like. I know when you're scared and sad even when you try and act like nothing bothers you. And I promise to use this knowledge to make sure you live the happiest life you could ever live. To make you so happy you can't stand it sometimes._

_I know we'll argue sometimes. I'm not promising that it will always be easy and that we'll always agree on everything. I'm not naïve. That's unrealistic. But I am promising that I will still love you in our disagreements. That we will work through them together. That as long I love you, which will be forever, and as long as you love me, which I hope will be forever, then we'll be happy. _

_I think I've loved you since the day you defended me in second grade. Santana you are the most interesting person I've ever met. I want to know everything about you. I could listen to you talk about anything and even if it was something I didn't quite understand, I would still find it interesting because I could listen to you talk all the time. I could lay in your lap, your hands in my hair and you talking about the freaking stock market and I would be more than happy. _

_I don't know what was said tonight at your house or how you're doing right now reading this. I don't know what happened with your mother or what you're going to do. I don't know if you're crying reading this because of something she said or did, or smiling because something good happened. I have no idea._

_But I hope that after reading this you won't worry so much. You won't let other people control your feelings anymore. That you'll learn to let go of things you can't control. That you'll just understand that you'll continue to be okay, and that's all that matters._

_You can't control if people will still love you when they find out you love me. You can't control what people at school will say and do when they find out about us. You can't. And you shouldn't worry about it._

_Yes sometimes people do mean and cruel things. I understand that. But I'm not scared, and you shouldn't be either. _

_Because what other people say and do will not affect or change how I feel about you. And I think you finally realize it's not going to change how you feel either. It's not going to change who you are. _

_I love you. I love you so so much. And although this summer hasn't been the most relaxing or drama free, I wouldn't change it for the world. Because you're mine. _

_And because I'm yours._

_And I can't tell you how long I've waited for that to happen. And all I can do is stick with the promises I made you and love you until I have no more love to give. (which will never happen because I'm the most loveable person ever!)_

_Don't ever forget that you are loved. Don't ever forget that you are beautiful. Don't ever forget that you are special and awesome and smart and sexy. Don't ever forget any of it._

_And if you do, I'll be there every day to remind you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Brittany S. Pierce_

Santana smiled, folded up the letter and tucked it back in her pocket. She didn't think it was possible to love Brittany more than she did. But then Brittany had to write words like that and Santana's heart couldn't stop beating against her ribs like a freaking drum.

Santana wasn't sure what her senior year was going to be like. She wasn't sure if she was ready to tell everyone about herself and about Brittany. She wasn't sure how long it would take for her mom to come around so she could live at home again. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do after high school or even what she was going to do tomorrow.

But there was one thing Santana Lopez was sure of.

She loved Brittany S. Pierce more than anything in the damn world.

And she would continue to love her.

Until she couldn't love anymore.


End file.
